Sunrise, Sunset
by Dame Selena
Summary: "At first he was hopeful that she would approach him to say thank you for the bread, and then they would start a conversation, and then she would get to know him and then love him as much as he loved her. He continued to watch her walk home every day, but she never even looked his way." Peeta's life from the day he met Katniss to when the story begins. Sequel to Robin's Song.
1. Chapter 1 Kindergarden

It was the first day of September, the first day of school and the sky was as grey and colourless as smoke rising above the chimney back home in the bakery. Silent trudging footsteps crept down the road while Peeta kept his eyes solemnly on the ground as if it were a tragic occasion. The air held a type of nervousness, of being abandoned by their parents for the first time or the frightening unknown. All around him were dull stares, thoughtful frowns, and the restless shifting of the adults.

"Micky, I told you to stop it," a man's voice hollered. A sharp slap cut through the air, a few children tensed their shoulders and most of the parents averted their eyes and pretended not to see. Haymitch wasn't the only drunk in District Twelve. Morgan Donner was known to drink the way his sister used morphling, and he was a mean type of drunk.

Michaelis let go of his father's hand as his blow sent him reeling and he crumpled on the ground, his pants turned dark as the dust clung to the fabric and he stared, almost stunned that his father would dare to hit him in public.

Dannel Mellark shook his head and crouched down to Peeta, who was wide-eyed and terrified of leaving the safety of his father's embrace. "School's great fun, you'll see Peeta," his father said cheerfully. "Delly's in your class, you'll meet all sorts of friends and play games and I know Miss Foster, she's really nice and make you feel right at home."

But Peeta had an awful feeling in his tummy, like that time he snuck five sugar cookies in one sitting and later his mother had screeched at him when he confessed about his tummy ache as to why he couldn't eat much dinner. His father gave him a sympathetic smile. "Are you nervous Peeta?" Peeta quickly shook his head, he was a big boy now and he didn't want his father to know he was scared. Dannel smiled and clasped a hand on his small shoulder. "That's my boy."

Amoungst the chattering parents and tearful children one woman stood out, blonde and fair, clutching the hand of a dark and dusky young girl who looked like a stranger next to her.

His eyes softened at the sight of the mother and daughter. "You see that woman over there?" Peeta's father whispered. He bent down and lowered his voice as if telling him a great secret. "When I was younger, that was the woman I wanted to marry, only she ran off with a coal miner."

Peeta's eyes widened. His father was so kind and brave and good he couldn't understand why any woman wouldn't choose him, especially for some smelly coal miner and asked him so.

Dannel Mellark's eyes misted over and seemed to settle on the small girl next to the woman he loved. "Because when Robin Everdeen sang, the birds would go silent." Peeta stared at the little girl and drank in every detail about her, from her red plaid dress to her hair in two braids and wondered if her voice too could make the birds go silent.

During music assembly when Miss Foster asked if anyone knew the valley song he instinctively looked to the girl in braids and her hand flew up. Miss Foster propped her up on a stool and Katniss opened her mouth to sing the most beautiful song that he had ever heard. It was spellbinding, Peeta could have sworn all the birds sitting on the windowsill fell silent and at that moment he knew that he was a goner.

 _Katniss,_ that was her name he learned when they played the Name Game.

His father was right, that day they did play a great number of games, after the Name Game was the Letter Game, and then the Colour Game. They weren't too hard, but a little exhausting to young Peeta. After snack time Miss Foster handed out colouring sheets and crayons. While Peeta scribbled all over a house under a sun his eyes kept finding their way back to Katniss, whose eyes were crinkled in concentration and her tongue was poking out as she tried to stay within the lines.

He took to watching Katniss, always wanting to speak to her by never having the courage. Five year old Peeta didn't have any friends because too shy to ask to join in their games. He was a sullen loner who hung back from others and flinched at loud sounds. At a young age he had learned the invisible dynamics of their family, his mother would beat him and Rye black and blue and she was even known to take a swing at their father from time to time, but she would never, ever even raise her voice at Klein. His eldest brother was solemn and intelligent, everything about him was neat and tidy from his clothes which he carefully folded to the way he treated his chores, which was probably why he was their mother's favourite. On the other hand Rye was the opposite, loud and boisterous but somehow well-liked and he was the most popular boy in his class. Rye was the type of person who could always make the best of things, no matter what the situation. Once he had accidentally broken an entire tray of biscuits, but then he simply bagged them up and labelled them as stardust cookies and they sold out within a day. Their mother had smacked him for being careless but their father had laughed at his cleverness and ruffled his hair saying "that's my boy!" Rye took after their father more than Peeta and Klein, like him he liked to smile and joke and laughed a lot so at dinnertimes it would be mostly the two of them merrily swapping stories their while mother fussed over Klein. This left Peeta, the odd one out ignored by everybody else to eat his bread silently, wishing that Katniss was there to pay attention to him and keep him company.

His mother always complained to their father every time they did their accounts that three mouths to feed was just too many. It hurt, that his family would have been better off without him. His father always reassured him afterwards that he was loved but Peeta couldn't help but feel unwanted, especially when everyone was too busy doing grown-up things to pay attention to him. Sometimes, it hurt being alone. The day before first grade he was at the playground sitting on top of the swings. One by one the parents came and took their children home, until Peeta was the only one left. His father was busy with the shop and his mother didn't care about him. He was busy watching Katniss, her two braids flying behind her as her mother came and held her hand to take her home. Transfixed by her, Peeta decided that one day he would marry Katniss and make her love him.


	2. Chapter 2 First Grade and Friends

Peeta's first grade teacher Mrs Sampson was very different from Miss Foster and so were the lessons in school. Where they once planted tulips and drew pictures and had show and tell, grade school was a lot more sitting still and listening.

Mrs Sampson was an odd looking woman, under about an inch of dishwater blonde roots her hair was dyed light purple with elderberry juice and she sewed up her clothes trying to mimic the Capitol stars on television as best she could. She also tried to talk the way they did, with long ss' clipped vowels and sentences that went up at the end. "Attention classs…." she clapped her hands. "Please be quiet for a special video presentation." On the first day of class she handed out the workbooks they would be using for the year, and the cover of every book was emblazoned with the seal of District 12, a pickax over ore for mining and the same words underneath. Klein had taught him his letters at night before bed so Peeta tried to sound them out. "Glo-ry to the Cap-i-tol," he said to himself slowly as he traced a chubby finger under each syllable, feeling proud that he could read them. He cracked open his books in wonderment at the fine, creamy sheets. Sums of numbers to be added and subtracted, words to be spelt and used in sentences, and pages and pages of stories to be explored, he felt a sense of excitement at the things that he would learn and how fun it would be. He turned his attention to the halo screens at the front of the class when the lights began to dim and the screen lit up. "Long ago disasters fell and created a shining country named Panem..."

A slash of a knife and blood splattering the screen made the whole class jump. Mrs Sampson turned off the screen with a grim expression on her face and for the rest of the period their teather answered all the questions that their parents had refused to answer.

"What's the Reaping?"

"It's like a lottery dear, the escort chooses two tributes who will be sacrificed to the Capitol to participate in the Hunger Games."

"What happens in the Hunger Games?"

"The twenty-four tributes fight each other to the death in order to win."

"What happens to kids that lose?"

"They die."

There was a sharp intake of breath. This was District 12 and everybody learned of death at a young age. In the Seam it was common for babies to just lose the will to live and stop breathing, early in the morning on the side of the roads emaciated bodies turned up all the time. People in town might have known death from an old pet cat or dog that just laid down and gone to sleep and couldn't be woken up. There were a few more questions after that when Mrs Sampson brightly declared that it was time for arithmetic.

And life moved on, the Hunger Games was just a part of everyday life they had to accept like two and two equals four and i before e except after c.

At the end of the day Mrs Sampson also passed out boxes of coloured chalk. "If you feel upset by what we discussed in class today, draw out your feelings instead of talking about them."

In town, in the back alleys away from the main traffic the town kids drew circles and blobs, fascinated by the yellows and purples and blues against the grey paving stones. Children still, they soon forgot about feeling upset and became absorbed in play.

"Hey Peeta, what's that?" A young high-pitched voice called. A few children, intrigued, turned their heads to Peeta's direction. The voice came from Delly, his next door neighbour. Their fathers were best friends where Mr. Mellark referred to Mr. Cartwright affectionately as "Big John" and he called him "Danny Boy" in return. Peeta and Delly knew each other before they could talk and they used to even take a bath together and sleep on the same bed when they were babies.

Peeta had been concentrating very hard on creating a cat using the orange and he used he black as stripes. Some kids dropped their chalk to watch him in amazement. "Delly, who's your friend?" A boy with light buttery hair asked. "This is Peeta, he's my brother!" Delly declared and reached out with chubby arms and hugged Peeta's head to her chest protectively.

"Peeta, can you help me with my drawing? It's supposed to be a pig," the boy with the buttery blond hair said shyly.

Peeta nodded and took the pink chalk he offered and fixed his blob by adding a snout and ears and a curly tail.

"Thanks Peeta," he said in amazement. Suddenly another boy darted in and added a black moustache and thick eyebrows to the drawing. "Haha, ruined it Peeta," Michaelis called cheerfully and stuck his tongue out at him. Irritation ran up his spine but Peeta turned away and ignored him.

The next day after school when they reached the bakery Peeta's father let go of his hand. "Go play with your friends until dinner, okay?" Peeta hesitated and shook his head.

His father let out an exasperated sigh. "Peeta, you've got to at least try and make some friends. Be a good boy and play nice with the other kids okay?" Peeta tried to cling desperately to his father's pants but he shook him off and walked away resolutely.

The door of the bakery shut and Peeta could see Michaelis looking at him with a mischievous smirk and began to run in the opposite direction. He was so preoccupied with getting away from his tormentor that he he almost ran straight into Delly whose pigtails bounced breathlessly with every step she took.

"Peeta, wanna play hide and seek?" giggled Delly as she tugged on his hand. Without waiting for an answer she dragged him over to the rest of her friends.

A smiling-faced Samus covered his eyes and began to count down from fifty, peeking from his fingers like he always did. His parents owned the chandlery and he would come to school smelling of lavender and lemon with soaps that had turned oddly shaped for show and tell.

Peeta dashed down the cobblestone street with Delly's hand in his, past the broken lamp post, past the cracked barrels leaning against the greengrocer's fruit stand. They ducked into an alleyway between the Cavendish's cellar and a dilapidated brick wall, crouching behind stacked crates.

"Do you think he'll find us here?" panted Delly.

She didn't have to ask, a few seconds later they heard scampering footsteps and a small hand toppling over the stack of empty crates.

"Haha found you!" Samus crowed. "Now you hafta help me find everyone else!"

The small trio stepped out of the alleyway and began combing the streets in search of their friends. Crouching under a blanket of newspapers was Luso, the greengrocer's son who stepped out sheepishly when he was caught.

It took a bit longer to find Nan, she had climbed halfway up the old elm tree in front of her parents' buttery and hid behind the leaves. She had waved cheerfully when they found her and hopped down. While she wore her ginger hair in a braid tied with a white ribbon, she had three older brothers and wore more of their hand-me-down overalls than dresses.

But just when she was found Nan's shaggy old dog broke free of the the hemp rope around the collar and they chased after him, laughing and yelping at the people he bowled over on the way.

"Edgar come back!"

Poor Madge Undersee was carefully carrying something in a basket when Nan's dog ran her over.

"Sorry Madge!" They helped her back to her feet and took off running again.

"Look, there's Katniss," Peeta said breathlessly when he spotted her with her father "Let's ask her to play too."

Everyone stopped. "We can't Peeta, she's from the _Seam,"_ said Luso.

"Oh," he said sheepishly. He didn't know there was some invisible rule but but it seemed that in the classroom the Seam and the Town kids kept separately and that unfortunately was the way things were.

"He went that way!" Delly pointed and jolted them all back to the task at hand.

They continued to chase Nan's dog Edgar until he knocked over a trash can at the butcher's, attacking a large thigh bone with ferocity.

It took all five of them to drag him back to the buttery, their small hands tugging on his collar and tail and fur all the way back and Nan's parents gave them some cheese and grape juice for their trouble.

"Why's your dog called Edgar anyway?" he asked while they ate on Nan's porch.

"Cause when he talks he makes a GRRRRRR… sound!" she exclaimed and widened her eyes as if inviting them all to laugh. They talked and laughed some more while they ate, and Peeta feel himself relax and enjoy their company. These would be the friends that Peeta grew up with, though he wished there was one more girl he could play with.


	3. Chapter 3 Winter Adventures

With new knowledge of what he was watching on television every year, Peeta paid even more careful attention to the frightened looking teenagers on stage, but that year it seemed like one special tribute stood out more. It was the sister of last year's victor, the handsome boy from One.

"Cashmere, could you tell us a memory about Gloss?" cheery Caesar Flickerman asked.

She was wearing a pink dress, with a wide bow on her head fluffy with layers and layers until she looked like a pink poof. She looked almost too young, too vulnerable to be a typical District One tribute.

She thought for a while, looking pensive, then swallowed. "When I was little, I was playing and I broke father's antique coronet that was in our family for generations, his most prized possession that he often said he loved more than us. I didn't know what to do, I sat down and cried until Gloss found me, and he helped me bury the pieces in the garden. I asked him if it'll be alright like this, and he said it'll be fine. When we were done we stared for a long time at where we buried the crown in the dirt and he slipped his hand in mine." Cashmere stopped and turned her head away as if trying to hide her face.

"He said that since he's helping me hide the evidence, he's an accomplice and he's guilty too. He said, 'That's why even if we get found out, if we get punished I'll get punished with you so you won't be alone'," Cashmere started to cry. "And at that moment I loved Gloss so much, I thought I was the luckiest sister in the world."

There were a few tears in the audience too, and that story hit something inside Peeta, and it made him _like_ the girl from One, and wanted her to live. It puzzled him, that funny feeling in his chest that made him care about her and not stand the idea of her dying when his district had two tributes in the Games as well. He thought about it for a long time and realized it was because her life was valuable to him, because he wanted her to make more precious memories like that with someone that she loved, and who loved her.

That summer of the Hunger Games was the hottest summer anyone in their District could remember. Miners would emerge from the depths of the mines with sweat pouring from their bodies, and then joke that they wanted to go back inside where it was cooler. In town people fanned themselves with folded paper and nibbled on ice cubes while watching the Games, which were ironically set in a frozen tundra. Their tributes had both gone down in the bloodbath and it was down to Cashmere and the boy from Four. Peeta watched at the almost macabre dance as their weapons flashed and they struggled against the ice and the snow. It seemed like the boy from Four had an advantage when suddenly the girl from One slipped down and slid right between his legs. She staggered back to his feet while he was still pulling his sword from the frozen ground and clumsily, gracelessly twisted her own weapon on his back.

He fell with a cry and she watched, wide-eyed and chest heaving as if she couldn't believe what she had done. Peeta remembered the way her breath came out in white puffs and the snow frozen in her blonde hair like crystals, the camera zoomed into her striking blue eyes until finally the trumpets sounded. "And the winner of the Sixty-Forth Annual Hunger Games, Cashmere Valentyne!"

The cold dead look in her cold blue eyes continued to stare at her once-ally's blood spreading against the white snow, even as the hovercraft lifted her out of the arena. Peeta shuddered, and in spite of the heat he felt cold, but a kind of happiness that she would be able to go back to her brother. His mother looked away and covered her face. She never liked the Hunger Games and barely hid her revulsion. "It's over. It's finally over, Dannel turn that damn thing off."

Cashmere came over in the winter on her victory tour with her brother. She was even prettier in real life and Peeta felt happy to see her looking well. At the ceremony Madge Undersee, in her best dress curtsied to Cashmere politely and handed her a bouquet of flowers which Cashmere accepted graciously. Peeta felt a bit envious of her, to be able to be so close to the victor every year.

He made the mistake of saying so in his mother's earshot before dinner which earned him a solid hour of scolding and raging that he was so ungrateful and what, being the baker's son isn't good enough for his royal majesty?! She sent him to bed without dinner and Peeta laid down gloomily in his bed in the dark, wishing he had never spoken. But what his mother didn't know was that when the rest of the family had finished eating their father tiptoed in when she was busy with the dishes to slip Peeta a heel of bread with a lump of cheese.

Peeta accepted the food and wiped at his eyes. His mother wasn't like the gentle mothers on television who gave hugs and kisses and told her children how much she loved them. She was a mean and nasty woman who never had a nice word to say to anybody, and that made Peeta sad.

"Dad," he asked sulkily, "why did you even marry mom?" He had to be her son because he couldn't help he was born from her but his father had a choice and he couldn't understand why he chose his mother.

His father had sighed and sat down on the bed next to Peeta. It gave a creak and Dannel looked Peeta in the eye with a serious expression on his face. "Peeta, I know your mother can be a harsh woman but here is always good with the bad, and she does have her moments."

Chewing on his bread quietly, Peeta began to consider his father's explanation. Well… maybe she did, sometimes. Like the time they heard that Rye had gotten into a fight with the biggest, baddest boy at school and their mother had broke a plate and screamed her throat raw about how she would kill him herself if he wasn't already dead, but once Rye had limped through their front door with a black eye and split lip she had fallen to her knees and hugged him before doing anything else, and she was crying. Still, Peeta wished she had more of these moments.

Klein must have been feeling sorry for Peeta because the next Friday after chores he whispered to Rye and Peeta that they were going on an adventure. The three boys bundled up in their warmest coats and scarves and mittens that had been patched up from many years of use and headed out.

Klein led the way while Rye peppered him with questions about where they were going and were they there yet? Were they there yet? Were they there yet? Klein's answer was the always-patient, "we're almost there." Peeta was curious too, they were walking right past the border of the town and it looked like they were heading towards the Seam. His heart sped up and he wondered if he would get to see Katniss.

Soon he and Rye realized they were following large tracts of sooty black footprints all converging towards the same destination. He looked up to see a big abandoned warehouse where its windows were boarded over. Except if it was abandoned, why was there smoke furling from the chimney?

He and his brothers quickened their footsteps and entered the building with a group of gangly looking men. Peeta sharply inhaled at what he saw. It was an entire marketplace, where people spread out their wares on carpets or makeshift stands, there was a cauldron bubbling by the corner where an old woman was selling bowls of soup. There was everything imaginable to young Peeta, food, clothes, brightly coloured ribbons, baubles hanging from hooks on the wall. People haggled and spat, there was a game of cards over at one of the tables behind the carcass of a reindeer.

"A boy in my class told me about this place," said Klein from behind his scarf. "It's called the Hob, it's a blackmarket where you can buy just about anything, as long as you don't tell anybody where you bought it."

"No wonder you told me to bring my pocket money," Rye breathed and dashed off picking up and touching everything, to the ire of the storekeepers who gave a shout of annoyance.

Suddenly Peeta looked crestfallen when he realized that he was too young to have pocket money and didn't have anything to spend.

Klein seemed to read his mind. "It's okay Peeta, I'll buy you something, consider it an early Christmas gift." They walked slowly from stall to stall together, until Peeta saw a box of pencil crayons. They were twenty-four perfectly uniform bright colours shining at him, never had he seen pencils like these, the ones he used at school had been sharpened to nubs and watery and barely left a mark on paper. These pencils must be worth a fortune.

"How much?" Klein asked.

The shopkeeper stated his price and Klein winced.

"I'm sorry Peeta, it's way too much." They turned to leave.

"Now hold up." The shopkeeper held up a hand. "I ain't intending to sell the whole box of course, each pencil is three hundred Gil."

Klein thought for a moment. "Okay Peeta, you can choose one."

Peeta stared carefully at the twenty-four colours in front of him, but one stood out to him and was brighter than the others. "I'll have the orange one," he declared after much thought. He clutched his prize in his hand as he met up with Rye again who was in such a cheerful mood he bought all three of them a cup of apple cider from the woman stirring the cauldron. Rye chatted away with her happily, letting them know they were the baker's sons.

Peeta sipped his piping-hot drink and noticed the broomstick next to her. "Are you a witch?" he asked her with wide curious eyes. His brothers both nearly spat out their drinks in shock.

Luckily the wrinkled woman wasn't offended and chuckled. "A witch? Your mother's Mahra Mellark and you think _I'm_ a witch?" Because she thought he was cute she gave them each a rockcake as well which nearly broke their teeth.

They left the Hob with high spirits but as soon as they stepped out their faces dropped. It had began snowing and blizzards of snow were pelting diagonally and the drifts had built up nearly to Peeta's knees. The wind was howling.

"Well, maybe it'll let up soon," Klein said doubtfully.

They trudged back towards the town but it was slow going as the storm did not let up but only became more violent. Everything was buried and it was a sheet of white as far as the eye can see. They grimly kept marching, shielding their faces from the wind with their arms.

"Wait," Rye said suddenly, "I don't remember passing an old shed on the way home, I think we're going in the wrong direction!"

They looked around frantically but it was all trees and any discernable landmark was buried and the blizzard was so thick they could barely see a foot in front of their faces.

Not knowing what else to do they took shelter in the shed amoung mining tools covered in bitter-smelling soot.

"Klein you bloody idiot, this is the last time you choose where we're going on our adventures," Rye muttered as he shivered and rubbed his arms.

Rye struck a match, carrying a book of them in his pocket from lighting the oven at the bakery but the feeble flame spluttered out after a second and did nothing to warm them. The three boys let out a collective sigh.

Luckily in the shed Klein found a huge burlap blanket and the they huddled underneath.

"We can wait out this storm until morning, when the blizzard stops we can see where we are."

It sounded like a good plan to Peeta, but he was so cold. His breath was coming out in white puffs like Cashmere's was during the Games and his teeth kept chattering against each other.

He felt a warm arm around him, and then another on his other side.

"It'll be fine Peeta. We'll be cold… together." And Peeta slowly felt something warm spread from his chest, down to his fingers and toes until the chattering in his teeth stopped and he understood how Cashmere felt, because right at this moment he felt like the luckiest boy in the world to have Klein and Rye as his brothers.


	4. Chapter 4 The Room Upstairs

Peeta started helping at the bakery once his mother decided that he was able to do more than sit around being useless, which were her exact words.

Peeta's bottom had its share of spankings for when he spilled a glass of milk or his shoes tracked in dirt or he forgot to put his things away and he was more than a little wary around his mother.

On his first day at the bakery his mother had lectured on the importance of washing his hands and keeping the rags for washing the dishes and the floor separate. He was put to kneading the dough while his father handled the counter and his mother decorated the cakes. Peeta liked the bakery. It smelled nice, of warm bread and sugar and he liked the neat rows of cinnamon buns and iced cookies and loaves of bread twisted or pulled into oblong rolls lining the shelves. But his favourite was the cakes in front of the windows. He watched in fascination as his mother turned squiggles of icing into flowers and borders, into something real.

"Mother can I try?" He asked one day. Peeta could draw a great deal of things in his notebook at school, and during art class all his friends said he was the best artist.

"I suppose you could practice on some broken cookies. Just don't waste too much icing." She had pushed the icing pen in his hand and a tray of stale and broken cookies under his nose.

Peeta furrowed his brow and slowly made a small circle in the centre of a cookie. Then a squiggle, and another, and another until there was a daisy drawn with icing. His mother came back, drying her hands on her apron. Her eyes had softened at his work, "Peeta you did that?" And then her face did something that it rarely did, it smiled. "Good work Peeta."

Peeta could feel his face light up and the corners of his mouth stretch from ear to ear. A warm glowing feeling began to spread from his stomach at his mother's praise and realized how important her approval was to him and despite all his doubts he really did love and value his mother.

Peeta's favourite colour was orange probably because he only had one good pencil crayon which he used to scribble sunsets. Once on his birthday Luso had given him an orange from the fruit bin. It was much more sour and bitter than he had expected, and the juice ran over his hands and made a sticky mess when he tried to peel it, but the brightly coloured skin made him happy to look at it, it was so full of life against the black coal dust and grey skies of District 12. He had saved the peel and kept it in a jar on his desk until it wilted and turned a ghostly greyish white and Klein had mistaken it for trash and thrown it away for him.

Sometimes, he liked to look out the tallest window and watch the sunset, the hues of warm oranges and yellow breaking through the dreary grey haze of coal dust.

He discovered it the day Rye got it in his head to play explorers. "Listen up boys, we're playing explorers," he announced with a stubborn jut of his chin. He had even tied a towel around his neck for god knows what reason and had a pair of their mother's sunglasses over his head for once again god knows what reason.

Peeta had been frowning over a drawing of a certain girl with dark braids and hastily shut his notebook once Rye walked in. Klein, the oldest closed his book, marking his place with its ribbon. "That's a fun idea," he said kindly. "Where should we explore?" he said, humouring his younger brother.

"The attic, let's see what kind of treasure is in there!"

"But mother said not to go up there because it's dusty and dirty and there's spiders," Peeta interjected, truthfully more scared of their mother than spiders.

"Don't be such a baby Peeta, aren't you curious what's up there?" Peeta had to admit he was, he knew attics were usually filled with old boxes of cool stuff that lay forgotten, maybe he would find some pencil crayons or paints that were better than the watery stuff he got from the general store which is why he decided to join in.

Klein, who was the tallest got the step ladder and pulled down the rope that led to the attic. The square panel dropped down, a cloud of dust falling and painting him grey in an almost comical manner, making him cough. Rye quickly hopped up the folded stairs, shining his flashlight around and motioned for his brothers to join him.

 _Oof_

The three boys tumbled on top of each other in a mess of limbs, to their surprise it was much more crowded than they had expected.

Rye's flashlight swished around, illuminating the dusty floor and the outline of dark objects but was otherwise useless.

"It's too dark, we can't see anything."

"Maybe there's a light?"

Klein's slender hand felt around the wall until he felt a switch. A lone lightbulb swinging from the low ceiling flickered to life, casting a dim glow around the room.

"Whoa." It was a small space crammed with boxes, some starting to mould. Peeta could see a mouse nibbling on a corner of a cardboard box but scampered under a crack in the wall with a squeak when he saw the boys. Cobwebs and dust were scattered across every surface and every corner, which was expected.

"C'mon let's look for treasure!" Rye tore open into the nearest box easily but his face fell in disappointment when he saw it was just full of old books, which had gone moldy with time and the pages inside were illegible.

There was furniture too, an old vanity table and wardrobe, warped and dilapidated with time and they couldn't even open the drawers.

"There's got to be something good in with all this junk!" Rye said desperately.

They opened more boxes, clothes with so many moth holes they were more hole than cloth, smashed and broken china, and even their broken baby toys Klein recognized from when they were younger.

Finally, they found a chest, equally warped and dilapidated but cracked at the top. It took a few hard whacks with a broken broomstick Rye had found before it finally broke apart.

The contents had been wrapped with plastic, which was maybe why they were still preserved. In it lay an odd assortment of items. A scrapbook, a feather, a few photographs and a few coins (which Rye quickly appropriated). There were some clothes too, faded and musty-smelling in a strange style that people must have worn back before the dark days.

The three boys crowded around as Rye opened the scrapbook, of pictures and people and things from a place called Ireland. They stared, spellbound as he flipped the pages carefully, though things taped to the yellowed paper still crumbled to dust and the ink was so faded it was illegible at most places.

"What is this?" Peeta whispered.

"I dunno, we can ask dad," Rye whispered back.

"In any case, a lot of this junk should be thrown out," Klein pushed around a few boxes with his shoulder. "We can make room for another bedroom, or-" Suddenly he stopped.

Rye and Peeta climbed over to see what he had found. It was a window, and up high they could see a great view of the town, the copper and iron sheets cobbled on rooftops, the twisting spire of the library of the mayor's house, the odd colour of navy blue and grey of longjohns hanging on clotheslines, the smoke wafting lazily from smokestacks far off in the furnaces in the Seam. A cat walked on a ledge to climb into another window, disappearing with a swish of its tail.

Satisfied with their adventure the boys ventured downstairs, only to meet their horrified mother who shrieked at the sight of them. Peeta's eyes darted to the mirror hanging in the hallway where he saw he had a few cobwebs stuck in his hair and he was up to his elbows in grimy dust. There mother's face turned pink, then red, then purple like she was about to explode. Peeta's bottom already started stinging in anticipation.

"Whose idea was this?" she managed to gasp through a tight voice.

Rye turned went pale quicker than their tributes at the bloodbath.

"Don't get angry mother, it was my idea," Klein said quickly. "We just wanted to clean out the basement, there's lots of room up there to store equipment that's out of season."

Because it was him, their mother relaxed and Peeta began to breath again. "Well, alright Klein, just get cleaned up I'll see what we can do up there."

Later after dinner when mother was washing dishes they caught their father in the living room and showed him the old treasures they had discovered. He took the photographs in his hand and shuffled through them with a puzzled expression on his face. They were so faded it was hard to make out what they were but it appeared to be a boy. He flipped them over but there was no date or writing on the photographs. He thought for a long time. "You know, I think these are pictures of my grandpappy Bran. When I was a boy he told me stories, back then, before the war it was easier to travel between the Districts. He told me about how he went to District 4, and even the Capitol once. Of course, they were very different places back then."

He picked up the feather which hung on silver chains thinner than a spider's web. "I remember he told me about his lucky feather though." Their father flipped through the scrapbook to a page with a woman wearing the feather behind her ear. Peeta reckoned she must have been great-grandpappy's Bran's mother. "The old world was special place, where the barriers between the living and the spirit world are thinner, and there are things that can't be explained which is what some people call magic. This feather was blessed with a protective spell so that whoever held it would never be harmed." He strung the thin chain so it fell around the crown of Rye's head and over his right temple and he was wearing it like the woman in the photograph.

"Neato! Can I really have it dad?" His eyes widened in excitement and the surprise that their father chose to give it to him. Peeta pretended that he wasn't hurt.

Smiling, Dannel gathered up the photographs and the scrapbook. "These are very special things, boys. Things from before the Dark Days… they have to be turned in to the authorities but... " he held a finger to his lips and they understood.

.

Peeta set down the box of cookie cutters and whisks in the now-swept and mopped attic and ventured towards the window. The sun was setting and cast a warm orange glow over through the window as the crimson ball began to sink. A string of mockingjays flew by in the horizon, and the view was so magnificent that Peeta felt a swelling at his chest and was proud of the District that was his home. And more than anything Peeta wished he could show Katniss this, because he knew she would enjoy sharing in this moment with him.


	5. Chapter 5 School and Life

Peeta was trying to watch his cartoons when Rye grabbed the remote from the edge of the couch and flipped the channel to his favourite program.

"Hey I was watching that," Peeta protested.

His brother shushed him as a catchy jingle began to play and teenagers dressed in flouncy dresses and colourful suits ran to the stage. Rye's favourite program was a Capitol dance show where he tried to imitate their moves and belt along to the songs.

"What's that racket, you must think my ears are garbage cans," their mother grumbled from the corner of the room where she was ironing their laundry.

"Look it's a new dance, the Stricken Chicken!" Rye began flapping his arms and legs in a spastic imitation of the dancers on the show.

"Could you turn that racket off, you're going to break a lamp any minute," their mother snapped. "You know how much I hate dancing."

"Aw come on mom I got my best dance moves from you, like the twist and shout. Cause you shout non-stop, and you're so twisted too," Rye sang as he danced about.

"Why you-you how dare you speak to your mother like that!" She snarled and lunged in to deliver a blow but was stopped by their father who had grabbed her wrist.

"Come on Mahra, you used to love dancing." He spun her around and grabbed her by the waist as well and began to step back and forth.

"Dannel let go of me! That was then, we're too old for this now!"

But he ignored her and began to slide up and down the wooden floor. "Back in our day, the fad dance was the Peyton Place At Midnight."

Rye whooped appreciatively. "Wow dad, that move's swish!"

"Come on Mahra, you remember it!" He stretched a hand out beckoning her to join him.

A rare smile appeared on her face but it vanished quickly like a cloud. "Hmph, those days I had a better dance partner," she sniffed and waved his offered hand away.

Dannel pouted and pretended to be hurt. "Aw we know how you had to settle for little ol' me, but just one dance?"

An internal battle seemed to rage in her head and her eyebrow twitched. "Okay. Maybe just one."

Peeta clapped in amazement as he watched his parents glide up and down the floors, waving their hands, laughing and smiling and having a good time. His mother's cheeks turned pink and she looked less old and severe and more pretty. It was a happy occurrence, his parents getting along. A rare one where he felt they were a real family.

.

Summer meant a great deal of holidays and festivals, not including the requisite Hunger Games activities. One summer's day in August was the fireworks festivals when the blasters and the engineers from the Seam got together and put together bright displays where they could oooh and aah over, a pretty distraction for everyone before returning to the monotony of their dreary lives. In town square Peeta and his father wheeled around their bread cart, peddling tarts and pretzels to those who wanted a snack while they watched the fireworks.

"Hey, you going to pay for that?" Peeta's father called sharply to a scowling Michaelis Donner who had snatched a pretzel from a stack and tried to slip it in his shirt.

"Three cherry tarts please," a man with a lyrical voice asked. Peeta gasped inwardly. It was Katniss' father.

"Sure Robin, Ruth not feeling well?" his father asked.

The man shook his head. "She has a bit of a headache so she's staying in tonight. It's just me and the girls."

Clutching his hand next to her was solemn Katniss whose eyes were fixed on the sky in anticipation, Peeta wished she would look his way but she was trained on the promise of fireworks. Around the man's shoulders clinging to his neck was a tiny blonde toddler, pale and blue-eyed who looked nothing like the man she was sitting on.

Peeta knew a bit about how kids were supposed to look like their parents, and how Seam traits were dominant over Town traits but it wasn't polite to bring it up because it was suggesting illegitimacy, the same way polite people didn't mention how Klein's eyes were green when everyone else in the family's eyes were blue.

A few meters away he spied his friend Nan with her parents selling cups of wine where it looked like Haymitch was single-handedly keeping their business afloat while other irate customers tried to edge around him and gave her a cheerful wave. She skipped over. "Hi Peeta! Are you excited about the fireworks?" she gasped. "It looks like they're about to start!"

They turned to the inky black sky, illuminated by the twinkling stars. A soft 'pop' exploded from the distance, then a constellation of reds and purples. There were peonys and giraondolas, and pinwheels crackling and comets skyrocketing, lighting up the night's sky.

Everybody's eyes widened as the lights reflected in their eyes and they felt the warmth of the fireworks against their skin.

Quietly, Peeta edged himself next to Katniss so it was like she was watching the fireworks with him too, like they were a couple.

Later that night he went to bed happy. "That was a great show," murmured Rye. "I gotta hand it to those Seam engineers, every year it's always something different."

 _And I got to watch the fireworks with Katniss!_

.

Summer vacation was a nice break from routine, but near the end Peeta found himself bored and wishing for school to start up again, he knew his friends felt the same way.

They were idling in front of Luso's place, munching on bruised apples his parents would otherwise throw away.

"What do you guys want to do?" asked Delly, her chin tucked on her knees.

They all thought for a moment. "Let's play ding dong ditch," Samus suggested.

"That's mean! Plus we might get caught and our parents will get mad."

"Nuh uh! We'll ring Mr. Abernathy's doorbell, I doubt he knows who we are and he barely knows what's going on."

So with his heart hammering, Peeta followed his friends into Victor's Village. Unlike the rest of the district the grass was dewy and emerald green and cheerful flowers dotted the lawns, it was built uphill so that the coal dust from the Seam never reached its grand manors which were bigger and grander than any house in town.

The five of them hid in the geranium bushes and poked their heads out to spy at the empty doorstop with an untouched welcome mat in front of the door.

"Okay I'll go first," Samus whispered. He swaggered over to the door and stood on his tippy toes and pressed the small button.

 _Ding Dong_

He was off like a shot diving back in the bushes. They could hear clomping footsteps before the door slammed open.

"Wut? Whosedere? S'too early for you Effie." Haymitch squinted and looked around, bewildered.

The bushes shook with silent giggles.

Eventually Haymitch shook his head and the door slammed closed again.

"Okay who's next?"

"I'll do it," Nan declared bravely. She rose from the bushes and crept to the front and like Samus stood on her tippy toes and pressed the doorbell.

 _Ding Dong_

The footsteps came faster and Nan barely made it to the bushes before Haymitch was poking his head out the door.

"Dammit I know someone's out there, are you playing games with me Effie?!"

He shuffled out of the house in his pyjamas and slippers, liquor bottle in hand and peered all around the entrance. Finally, he shuffled back inside, slamming the door behind him. With a cold feeling trickling down his spine Peeta had a feeling he was standing right behind the door, waiting for them to do it again.

"Okay Peeta, you ready?"

"Wait no, I don't wanna play anymore," Peeta yelped in alarm.

"Chicken? Brwap brwap brwap brwap!" Samus flapped his arms, dislodging a few geraniums.

"This is stupid I'm going home." Peeta stood up and the door swung open.

"I got you boy!" Haymitch roared and pointed a shaking finger at him.

Heart racing in fear, Peeta made a run for it, and looked behind him to see Haymitch jogging after him. His friends screamed and jumped out from the bushes, scattering in different directions.

"Huh, there's more of you?" This sudden turn of events confused Haymitch and he stopped, which gave them a chance to get away.

"Do you think he's going to tell on us?" Delly materialized next to him as they dashed back into the town.

"I hope not, my mother will actually kill me!" Peeta moaned. They separated to run into their respective shops, and Peeta closed the door behind him, trying to catch his breath. Dannel looked up at the sound of the bell chiming.

"And what were you doing Peeta?" His father was more curious than anything.

"Nothing," he panted.

Lucky Haymitch never bothered to find out who they were or told his parents. Soon after that incident life continued until it was time to go back to school. Now that they had moved up to intermediate school clothes had to be more formal, skirts and blouses for the girls and smart pants and shirts for the boys. Peeta wore Klein and Rye's old cast-offs with safety pins and creases from the hems visible. Having two older brothers meant that nothing he wore was truly ever new, all he ever wore were their hand me downs, but the good stuff he actually wanted like Klein's pocketwatch and Rye's feather never, ever got passed down to him.

Somewhere in that time Samus' parents bought him a used dictionary for his tenth birthday from the book store. A few pages were torn out here and there and its previous owner had spilled coffee over the bottom corner but he was thrilled and took to regaling them with definitions of his favourite words.

"Butt, the two fleshy protuberances forming the lower and back part of the trunk." He cackled as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Everyone else groaned.

"Butthole, the orifice that solid waste comes through to leave the body."

"Look up the word moron, maybe there'll be a picture of your face there," Luso said irritably. He was in a bad mood because his bicycle had been stolen, the lock too. There were rumours of a Seam boy riding around in a shiny new bicycle but he couldn't be pinned down.

In any case chores, work, school and responsibilities continued. They had a school project in history class called the Victor's Project where they had to write a report about a past victor and present it in front of the class. Peeta and Luso were assigned Beetee Latier, victor of the 36th Hunger Games.

"So we're meeting in the school library after class?" Peeta asked.

"Yeah," Luso said gloomily, still thinking about his lost bike. When their last class ended they headed to the library to the shelves with all the books and tapes about past Hunger Games. It seemed a few of their classmates had the same idea as Michaelis and Lowell "accidently" knocked over a stack of books over Peeta's head.

"Oops," Peeta bumped into Madge, carrying an armload of books. The books tumbled to the floor and they both bent down to retrieve them.

"Looking for Victor books too?" Madge asked quietly. "Me and Katniss got Cecelia Meyer."

 _Katniss._

Peeta, with his heart thumping tried to compose himself. "Yeah. By the way is Katniss here?" He hoped he sounded casual. Madge nodded and turned her head to a table next to the window where Katniss was turning the pages of her notebook. The way the sunlight shone on her hair and eyes and lips was beautiful and Peeta stared in open-mouthed awe.

"Hey Peeta, I got them, come on!" Luso's voice snapped him back to the present.

"Er right, see you later Madge."

Back in Luso's living room they settled down on the floor and popped the tape into the television.

They scribbled into their notepads details about him, from his training score to his interview, and the events of his Games.

They watched as he ran through the woods being chased by the Career Pack, then connected the wire with his glasses, and as lightening struck, electrocuted the tributes.

"And so the victor from District Three proved that you didn't need brawns in order to win, sometimes using your brain and getting creative with your surroundings is enough," Peeta concluded. "To this day Beetee enjoys inventing, reading, and tinkering in his workshop with his friend and fellow victor Wiress."

The class clapped dutifully and Peeta and Luso returned to their desks.

Their teacher nodded and scribbled something in his gradebook. "Good job boys, next up erm let's see." Madge raised her hand.

"Alright Madge and Katniss, the floor is all yours ladies."

"Cecelia Meyer was born into a poor working class couple in District Eight," Katniss began demurely. She kept her eyes on her notecards and Peeta watched her in rapt fascination, hypnotized by her long eyelashes framing her slate grey eyes. Her voice was lyrical too, a pleasant lilt to it, and her words were musical and he could have listened to her talk forever. Too soon their presentation was over and Peeta clapped furiously for her.

The rest of the presentations concluded and the teacher began passing out forms for the upcoming field trip. Apparently they would be visiting one of the coal mines and seeing their District trade. According to his brothers it was quite boring, "the elevator smells like old milk and it's cramped and hot there," Rye had said.

Still, it would be his first time in the mines and Peeta couldn't help but be curiously excited.

That day their teacher passed on the class to a coal miner with laughing eyes and smile lines under a layer of coal dust.

They crammed themselves in the rickety elevator where slats of sunlight flashed before they dropped down into darkness. There was a sulfuric smell that stung his nose, and the high pitched clang of metal against rock and there was a feeling of being suffocated. He blinked to adjust his eyes to the dim lamps that glowed every few feet.

Another young miner joked to a friend about the trouble they would be in if there happened to be an accident today when they had a field trip.

"Is it really dangerous?" Luso asked nervously to their guide.

He shrugged and pointed to a deflated little yellow bird which seemed to cower in the corner of its cage. A few weak notes came chirping from its beak. "See that canary? When it stops singing and dies it means we have to hustle out. It's happened to us once, the levels of gas in the mines being too high but the whole place didn't explode or anything."

That day they learned a great deal, about the different steps in mining coal, sorting coal, and the different paths coal took into being different products. A coal breaker would remove impurities.

"Does anyone know what this is?" The miner held up a sandy rough looking piece of rock.

A boy with dark hair and olive skin raised his hand. "It's oil shale, which contains kerosene which can be extracted as a crude oil."

"Exactly!"

They even had an activity where they had to sort through wheelbarrows of ore to sort between slate, sulfer, ash, clay, soil and cleaned them under washing it under water.

And then grade the coal on basis of percentage of impurities remaining.

And then measure with a ruler to find the six subsets of sizes.

"Ahhhhhhhhh, the mine's caving in," Michaelis shouted, and upended a sieve of bits of rock over Peeta's head.

"Leave me alone," he snapped in annoyance.

By the time they left the miners were still working with no end in sight. It might have been fun for a while but Peeta was glad to finally leave the and secretly prefer working in the bakery.

When they broke the surface again Delly glanced at her black-smeared hands. "I'm all dirty!" she cried in dismay. Peeta looked down and realized his own shirt and pants were blackened and began to panic at the scolding his mother would give him. At the end of the day the Seam children barely raised an eyebrow as they marched to their home in the Seam covered in ash and soot but the Town children crowded around the pump in the square and frantically tried to scrub themselves clean before heading home.

At the end of the day he lay awake at night, wondering how the coal miners did it, twelve hours a day six days a week. His parents worked similar hours at the bakery but it was different, being above ground in a place where they could breathe, and despite what the coal miner had said he couldn't shake the feeling that the mines weren't really safe. He wondered how life worked, how the family you were born into determined whether you would slave away in the mines or a shop in the town. He turned over, wondering again about how being born to different districts determined what trade you were, or in the Capitol not having to worry about the Hunger Games. It was strange and made his head hurt and he pushed it out of his mind to finally get some sleep.


	6. Chapter 6 Requisite Canon Events

He was eleven the day the mines collapsed. He was just sitting in class listening to dull Mr. Johnson drone on and on about different names and dates, making even the most interesting ascensions and usurpations and rebellions boring when he glanced outside. It was grey and snowing lightly, overcast with clouds. Mid-sentence the teacher was cut off by a high pitched alarm. Peeta's heart froze. He knew what that was during their drills. Everyone tore out of the room, and down the stairs. There was no orderly line in alphabetical order as if the bell for a fire alarm went off, there was an accident in the mines, a real one, and for many who had parents and loved ones in there their hearts constricted in fear. Peeta found himself carried in the wave of people and could make out Katniss holding the hand of her sister dashing out the entrance.

"Peeta!" he heard his own name being called out and Delly grabbed his sleeve.

"Delly?" he stared at her and lost track of Katniss.

"I'm scared," she said fearfully. "I know my dad's safe in town, but I'm still scared, oh gosh it's so horrible!" he patted her on the back, not knowing what to do. In any case they were carried off in the sea of people in the direction of the mines too, despite not having any family there Peeta just had to know Katniss' father was alive. When they got there the elevators were belching out smoke-blackened men and women, every time it came up there was a cry of relief as loved ones led away their fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, friends. But eventually the number of bodies that came up became less and less until the elevators stopped completely and the mine captain shook his head sadly.

Peeta could see an older boy from Rye's year with two younger brothers clutching his pants just stare at the mine captain in shock as if he didn't understand what he had said. The boy stared back at the entrance of the mine as if holding his breath for a miracle, but it never came. Peeta watched the boy collapse to the ground helplessly and for some reason felt a lurch in his chest, as if feeling his pain himself and desperately wanted to help. Peeta looked up again and tried to find Katniss. There she stood, between her mother and sister but no father. The look on Katniss' mother's face scared him, there was no anguish or despair, it was completely blank. Katniss tried to tug on her hand but her mother didn't respond.

"Peeta!"

"Peeta!"

From somewhere far away he could hear people call his name. He tore his gaze away from Katniss to turn behind him. His father was jogging, red-faced with his mother with her face crinkled in concern. To his surprise his mother wrapped his numb body in a hug, he could count on one hand the number of times she had done that. "Thank goodness we found you! We were looking for you, it's just a mess! We've found your brothers, let's go home, you too Delly," his father panted and took the two of them firmly under his arms. Peeta wrenched himself free to look at Katniss one more time, who was shouting something at their mother who was still staring at the mines as if her husband would come walking out any second.

"Dad," Peeta asked as they walked. "What happens to families who've lost their father who used to work in the mines?"

His father's lips tightened in a thin line. "Well the mayor gives their families one month's of salary, and then they'll have to find a way to survive after that."

"How?" he insisted, thinking of Mrs. Everdeen's expressionless face.

"People find a way." But there was uncertainty in his voice.

There was a ceremony in the next week, mourning the loss of those who had died in the accident. The eldest children were presented with a medal of valor and Peeta could see Katniss and the older boy from that day solemnly accepting their medals. But what good does a medal do? They need food to eat and a way to survive.

Katniss changed after the accident. Already quiet, she seemed to withdraw into herself even more. She never seemed to smile anymore and always seemed distracted. Peeta watched her from afar, wanting desperately to ask if she was alright, but always chickened out at the last moment, afraid of her response.

A month passed, and then things became desperate. He could see Katniss become thinner, and seemed to move slower and less as if conserving her dwindling energy. Even his father became worried about the Everdeens but there mother had warned him that if he ever even thought of helping widowed Mrs. Everdeen she would kick him out of the house and took to hovering over their inventory to make sure nothing unexplainably disappeared.

Peeta placed two loaves of bread in the oven, still thinking of a way to help Katniss and spirit them to her. She only had to make it to her birthday on May 8th, when she would turn twelve and then be able to take out the tessera, grain and oil for her family that would keep them alive. A knock of their door made him peer out the window. Speak of the devil, it was Katniss! Unfortunately it was their mother that greeted her. Katniss started speaking, holding up some old baby clothes but their mother started shouting something at her, and in the back room Peeta could hear her words, ugly and mean shouting that she was tired of Seam trash pawing through her garbage.

Peeta watched Katniss, with her shoulders slumped pathetically lope to their apple tree and sat down, not caring that she was being drenched in the rain. Peeta suddenly got an idea and dumped the loaves of bread into the fire so that their outsides would quickly scorch and then pulled them out with tongs again before the insides would burn and showed his mother what he had done. As expected, she was livid.

"Why don't you throw it to the pigs then, stupid boy!" she shouted, thinking the loaves were completely ruined. And then she struck him with the rolling pin. He saw stars for a moment, but grimly resumed his mission. Outside, he crept with the bread hidden under his apron. He glanced back furtively, making sure his mother wasn't looking walked closer to Katniss. She raised her head weakly and looked at him. He met her eyes, tired and hopeless and about to give up on life and he hardened with resolve. Making sure she saw him, he pulled out the bread and lobbed them to her gently in an underhand. She blinked, as if not understanding and glanced at the bread, and then back at him as if asking if it was alright for her to take it.

Peeta nodded and stared at her intently. Quickly, as if she was afraid he would change his mind she grabbed the bread with her skeletal fingers and was before he could blink, started tearing back towards the Seam. In the rain sluicing through his clothes, and an ugly weal darkening on his face, Peeta smiled and turned back to the bakery.

In the days that came Katniss seemed to recover, he knew when squirrels and rabbits appeared on his dinner plate along with the usual stale bread. It was common enough knowledge that Robin Everdeen hunted under the fence and it seemed Katniss had taken up his shoes. Peeta couldn't help but admire her even more, and felt the differences between them was too much. At first he was hopeful that she would approach him to say thank you for the bread, and then they would start a conversation, and then she would get to know him and then love him as much as he loved her. He continued to watch her walk home every day, but she never even looked his way. Days passed and he had given up hope that Katniss Everdeen would ever notice him.


	7. Chapter 7 Truth or Dare

"Hey, let's play truth or dare." It was Sunday in town and Peeta and his friends were trying to keep cool in front of the fountain in the square. The Reaping was coming up and for the first time they were eligible and it was no wonder they wanted something to take their minds off it.

The five of them huddled together closer so that no one would overhear them. "Okay I'll start." Samus turned to his right. "Delly, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she said immediately.

"Come on, only cowards choose truth," Samus groaned.

Delly turned pink. "Well I don't want to do anything embarrassing..."

"Okay, okay," Samus said, deciding on something embarrassing to ask. "What are your three measurements, top to bottom?"

There was an awkward silence. "Well I don't exactly know..." Delly turned even pinker.

"Liar! You got measured for new dress for Madge's birthday party, I remember," interjected Luso.

"Hey no lying, this is truth or dare and that's cheating!" Nan said indignantly.

Peeta began feeling sorry for his poor friend, "Hey guys lay off her, if she doesn't want to tell you she doesn't want to."

Delly shuffled on her feet. "I don't know, honest. I closed my eyes the whole time and told Mrs. Breen not to tell me cause I don't want to be told how fat I am."

"Aw you're not fat Delly," everybody protested.

It was true that Delly carried a bit more weight than most in District Twelve, but she was not exactly what people would call fat. Fat was those the mayor of District One who looked like a sausage stuffed to bursting, fat was the boar-mutts in the Hunger Games one year, which Samus told her before realizing that he wasn't exactly helping and his voice trailed off into nothingness.

"Hey, whatcha guys doing?" Peeta could feel a heavy pair of arms around his neck as some of their other classmates appeared on the scene whooping and hollering.

It was Michaelis Donner with a perpetual smirk on his arrogant face and his gang, the gorgeous but snobby Keyton siblings from the apothecary, Ellie and Eldritch, and Lowell Mathers, a bruteish boy whose parents ran the butchers who was his own cousin who he never got along with.

"Go away guys, we don't like you." Samus stuck out his tongue at them.

"We're bored, and it looks like you guys are having fun, let us in on it too eh?"

Luso seemed to have an idea. "Fine, we were playing truth or dare you wanna join?"

"Ok I'll go next," Michaelis declared. "I choose dare."

"I dare you to sneak into your parent's shop and get us all some candy." Michaelis' face fell. "That's it? You're just using me for sweets?"

"Well you asked to play. Are you gonna chicken out? Brwak brwak brwak brawk!" Samus strutted around and bobbed his neck, Peeta couldn't help but laugh, it was such an accurate chicken depiction.

Michaelis' neck reddened in anger. "Augh fine!" He dashed off and a few minutes later returned with a brown paper bag. They huddled around as he opened it, bursting with bright colours and wrappers. Everybody reached their hand in and quickly grabbed their favourites. Peeta popped a red and white swirled candy in his mouth, savouring the tartness of raspberry cream in the centre while the wrapper crinkling in his hand.

"Okay, that was a great heist," Luso admitted. "My turn, I choose dare."

Eldritch thought for a minute. "I dare you to throw a rock at that Peacekeeper." He pointed to a white-uniformed young man dozing on a bench under the shade of an oak tree in town, clearly sleeping on the job.

Luso's jaw tightened but he reached down to pick up a pebble from the ground.

"Not that one, he'll barely feel it. A bigger one."

Luso hesitated, but bent down and picked up another rock, almost as big as a plum and drew back his arm.

Next to Peeta, Delly covered her eyes with her hands but Peeta's eyes followed the wide arc as it sailed up in the air, then hit the Peacekeeper on the side of his head. His eyes popped open immediately and he sprang up. "I wasn't sleeping, Cray I swear!" he barked and looked around, for whoever had hit him.

His eyes scanned the area, and came to rest on the group of twelve year olds standing there. "You there," he snapped. "Don't you have work to do instead of loitering on the streets? Damn youngsters, nothing better to do than cause trouble," he muttered and pressed a hand to the bump on his head which began to turn purple and swell, not making the connection between them and whatever had attacked him.

Michaelis and his gang laughed. "That was _good._ Now who's next?"

They continued playing until they had to go home for dinner, in which time that Ellie confessed that she still watched the Dummy Bears on television and Samus stripped down and sang a song for passerbys. If Eldritch thought he would embarrass him, he failed. Finally it was Peeta's turn.

He gulped at Michaelis Donner's narrowed, crafty eyes. "D-Dare?"

His mouth curved into a nasty smirk. "I dare you…. to go to town hall and sign up for one tessera."

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone. "That's too far!" Delly exclaimed. And everyone began to protest.

Peeta shook his head. "No way."

Lowell smirked and poked Michaelis in the ribs. "You were right Micky, Peeta is a cowardly baby."

Peeta flushed with anger. Michaelis for some reason had spent years picking on Peeta for no good reason, and he wanted to shut him up right there and now.

"Come on, one slip's nothing. There's thousands in the bowl, it won't even matter. But I suppose you can back out Peeta…. if you're a baby."

Anger flared up inside Peeta as the sight of Michaelis' arrogant face. "I'm not scared, come and watch me!" They had to jog to keep up Peeta as he marched right up to the justice building and told the receptionist that he would like to sign up for tessera.

She peered over at him, then at the gaggle of friends behind him. "Is this a joke? Because this is very serious, young man."

Peeta shook his head. "No, I want it," he said emphatically and grabbed the form and filled it out right then and there.

His friends had to help him carry the bag of grain and drum of oil home, Michaelis was stunned that he actually went through with it. "You know Peeta," he said admiringly, "I didn't think you had it in you."

Blood was pumping through his body from the adrenaline and Peeta felt exhilarated, but that quickly faded away when he realized something. "What am I going to do with this? If my mother finds out I took tesserae she would beat me til I'm dead!" Everybody screeched to a halt.

"You can just ditch it," Nan suggested. "Just leave it on the side of the road, I'm sure someone'll want it." There was a murmur of agreement from everyone as the shifted to off the main path and dropped the oil and grain.

Luso tore out a sheet from his notebook and with a pencil wrote "HELP YOURSELF" and weighed the note down with a rock. Everybody took a step back and appraised their work with satisfaction.

"Perfect."

By now the sun was going down and they had to be back for dinner so they said their goodbyes and headed off in different directions. But that night, as Peeta choked down his dry biscuit with gravy and green beans he realized that in the coming Reaping and every one after that, he would have an extra chance of being picked.

Too soon it was summer again, and time for the Reaping, and this time Peeta was twelve and standing in the square, with his friends, vulnerable and able to be picked as well. He kept staring at the girl's pen where Katniss, who had a sister and mother to keep alive had three slips.

Three wasn't so bad, he reasoned. After all there were some kids who had over fifty and _they_ weren't chosen. In the end it was all due to sheer dumb luck. Still it was his first Reaping, and he burned with hatred for Michaelis that he had an extra slip in there, because he couldn't help but feel that there was a chance, no matter how slight it was there, that it could be him. He made a promise to himself, that if he and Katniss both survived he would talk to her.

The minutes ticked by and sweat beaded on his neck and trickled down his neck. Then finally, the mayor got up to make the same speech he did every year, and then the ever-peppy Effie Trinket, dressed in scarlet and gold this year was walking to the stage. All eyes were on her as she shuffled over to the lady's bowl and plucked out a single slip. There was a sharp intake of breath.

 _Not Katniss._

"Elyn Hale." A girl from the seventeens walked up to the stage, a grim acceptance on her face.

Peeta breathed out a sigh of relief. It wasn't anybody he knew, but whispered a silent apology to the girl who had family and friends of her own who would mourn her.

"And now the gentleman."

Peeta's heart lept to his throat and fluttered in terror. Time seemed to move in slow motion and Effie's lips moved as if from a far away place. "Warren Ohanian."

Peeta's weak jelly-like knees almost gave out beneath him in relief. It wasn't him, he could live another year. A surge of adrenaline from the rush of escaping death washed over him, and drunk with courage he decided to make good on his promise. The mayor had just concluded the ceremony and the crowd began to disperse. He began to crane his neck and peer over the crowd of people making their way home to catch a glimpse of Katniss.

There! Katniss was right there!

Peeta quickened his pace and pushed past the crush of bodies when all of a sudden a third figure appeared.

"Hey Catnip, ready for this afternoon?"

Peeta's heart dropped to his stomach. It was Gale Hawthorne, he had learned his name at the memorial when he watched him climb the stage and accept his medal. Peeta's heart hammered at the sight of a possible rival, Gale was tall and handsome and just two years older he already looked like a man, beside him Peeta was just a little boy and he realized that it was no competition between them who any girl would choose.

He came to a screeching halt and his face fell at the realization.

And then Katniss smiled. A relaxed, easy smile he hadn't seen ever since the accident, and that smile was for Gale. And it was that smile that made Peeta's heart crack, and he knew that he had no chance with Katniss.

He shuffled dejectedly in the other direction towards the town, ignoring Samus and Luso who were jogging to keep up with him.

"Peeta! Didn't you hear us? We were going to the Donner's to try and see if Michaelis will give us some broken candy, are you gonna come?"

Peeta tore his gaze from Katniss' retreating back to give his friends a weak smile. "Sure."


	8. Chapter 8 Nan's Blues

Every fall was the Harvest Festival. Peeta supposed in districts like Nine and Eleven they had horns aplenty to fill up with grain and vegetables as bounty they harvested to send off but here in District Twelve all they had were grimy metal buckets of coal that decorated the square as the mayor gave his yearly speech. It wasn't much, but it was a holiday nonetheless and Peeta was kept busy all day with orders for buns and desserts for the festivities.

In the square trestle tables were set up and Peeta's mouth watered with the aroma of sizzling meat from skewers being turned over the fire. A hog with an apple in its mouth sat at the butcher's stand. Lanterns were strung and ribbons festooned the square and gave it a cheerful feel. The Reaping was over and they had another year before they had to worry again. A female Peacekeeper was handing out coloured chalk to children to laughed and played and coloured the pavement pinks and purples and blues.

"Watch out," two men carrying stacks of bowls snapped as the children ran underfoot.

"Hot fresh buns!" his father called out, trying to be heard among the other vendors. Peeta juggled the hot buns, trying not to burn his hands. Rye had long since abandoned their stand to have fun with his friends and their mother muttered darkly underneath her breath about how she would flay him alive when he got back.

Haymitch staggered to their stand, a bottle of wine in hand. Peeta turned away, his ears turning red with embarrassment at his old childhood prank, hoping Haymitch didn't recognize him. "I'll take an apple tart," he slurred and slapped a bill on the table. "Keep the change." He took a swig from the bottle, so drunk he didn't notice he had given them a ten thousand Gil note for a one hundred Gil tart and loped off to hit the other stands.

His father chuckled and tucked the money away. "Oh Haymitch."

In the centre of the square, a giant cauldron bubbled, over twenty feet high the mayor had to climb a ladder to the top, where he dumped in ingredients that every citizen brought him for the stew. It was a mish mash of all sorts, Michaelis Donner's mother once had to stop him from throwing in chocolate, and a lot of housewives in town palmed off dinner leftovers. In the Seam even a handful of tessera grain which was as much as some families can muster was graciously accepted.

Right now Gale Hawthorne was handing the mayor a plucked groosling, which brought cheers from onlookers.

A familiar lyrical voice distracted him. "Can I have three cheese buns please?"

Peeta looked right in front of him. It was Katniss, and holding her hand was her sister, looking sweet and innocent in the same red plaid dress Katniss wore on her first day at school. "S-sure," he stammered and busied himself with filling a paper bag with hot, steaming buns. He was so nervous his hands shook and he accidently dropped one, which earned him a cuff on the head from his mother who hissed that he was clumsy and to just pick it up and put it in the bag because Seam trash like Katniss were used to eating dirt and wouldn't notice anyway.

He handed her the bag, which she opened up right away and peered inside. "You dropped one," she said flatly. "There's dirt on it."

Mr. Mellark overheard her and took back the offending bun. "You're right sweetie, I'm sorry." He replaced it with a fresh one. "And how about a little treat for the little lady to make it up to you, do you want a cupcake?"

Prim nodded eagerly and reached up with both hands on tippy toes for the strawberry-frosted bite-sized cupcake he offered.

When the Everdeen sisters left their mother gave their father a cuff around the head. "What? It's good customer service," he protested.

Rye took this opportunity to reappear, with five steaming bowls of stew balanced on a wooden tray. "They started handing out the stew," he said breathlessly. "I skipped the line and got you some to make up for the fact I didn't help much today. You aren't mad are you?"

Their mother glowered at him while their father laughed.

Peeta stared at his bowl. It was a brown colour from the barley with bits of god knows what floating in it. It usually wasn't so bad, usually chunks of carrot and turnip and onion, sometimes even an apple, with a film of grease swimming on top. Once he had gotten a piece of fish. He drank a spoonful, testing it. Strange flavours and spices tingled on his tongue, it was indescribable, he didn't know how, but somehow it always worked and tasted good.

"Has the stew ever been bad?" he asked their father.

His father chuckled and shook his head. "Once, I remember when Robin Everdeen and his brother were younger and greener, they mistakenly picked the wrong mushrooms, poisonous ones and everyone in the District got a bellyache from it."

Peeta halted, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "Wait, Mr. Everdeen has a brother?" He always wondered, back after the accident Katniss never had family that helped them, their mother's side had obviously disowned them but surely their father's side should have helped.

Dannel Mellark shook his head sadly. "He _had_ a brother, Peeta." Peeta wanted to ask what happened to him, but his tone of voice held a finality that made Peeta hesitate to ask.

.

Fall apparently seemed to be a time of brooding and moodiness. He was walking home with Nan, she had her hands in the pockets of her overalls and seemed pensive.

"My grandma was showing me this bottle of wine my father put away in the cellar when I was born, and how it'll be opened during my wedding and how proud of me they'll be." She slumped gloomily. "But that bottle of wine will age forever, because I'm never gonna get married. Ever."

"Hey, how do you know?" Peeta asked, thinking of Katniss and how there relationship was unlikely, but still possible. "What if you fall in love with somebody?"

She sighed. "I have fallen in love. But it wasn't with a boy."

Peeta's eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't understand," he said desperately, hoping he had misheard.

She stared at him sadly. "I had to say it."

His heart sank. District Twelve wasn't very kind to gay people. The couple that ran the blacksmith's were a pair of men in their forties who never bothered to got married, it was common knowledge what their relationship was but no one would talk about it, or talk to them. Whenever they would walk into the market people whispered as they passed and shied away as if they carried some contagious disease and they would catch it too. It wasn't exactly illegal but looked down upon.

"Who was it?" he asked softly. "The girl you fell in love with?"

"Violet Breen, the dressmaker's daughter, she's a couple of years ahead of us but augh when I look at her or I'm around her I just get this feeling and I want her to notice me and be close to her but I know she doesn't feel the same way I do, and it kills me." She hung her head in shame.

Peeta stared at her. He had seen lesbians on Capitol dramas on television. They had their hair shorn short dyed bright colours and tattoos and dressed and acted gruffly like men. But Nan didn't do any of those things which is why Peeta was certain that she wasn't actually gay.

"Look, you're not gay, okay? Violet Breen, she's nothing special. Back in health class we learned about getting crushes on people we admire. You're just confused see?"

It was this that made Nan mad. "Peeta, I know which gender I prefer and it's girls! It's everybody else that's confused! It's not like I _want_ to be gay! Do you think I haven't tried to be like everyone else?!"

Peeta looked at the despair on her face and the way she whirled away as to distance herself from him, and realized that what she needed right now was a friend. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay Nan. I believe you, and I still like you. Nothing's changed between us, you're still Nan, and I know our friends will think so too."

She gave him a teary smile. "Thanks Peeta, I'm glad I told you."

"Are you going to tell your parents soon?"

She recoiled in horror. "Are you crazy? It'll be insane if I told them!"

"It'll be a lie if you don't," Peeta said gravely. "I'll come with you if you want."

The two approached Nan's parents who were loading bottles of wine into the lattice shelves in the cellar.

"Mum, dad?" she said shyly and withdrawn. They stopped and looked at her in puzzlement.

"You're awfully quiet Nan, is something wrong?"

She gulped. "There's something I need to tell you." They glanced from her to Peeta, who was hovering awkwardly behind her.

They paled. "Nan you aren't pregnant are you?"

"No!" she sighed. "This isn't going to be easy."

Her father smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry honey, whatever it is, we'll handle it together, calmly and sensibly."

"I'm gay!" she burst out. Nan's cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Her parents shouted together.

"I don't believe you!" her mother shut her eyes and began to walk away.

"It's the truth mum!"

Her father put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's just a teenage phase Celia, Nan will pass through it."

"It isn't a phase dad! I've always been gay! It's the way I am!" Nan shouted in frustration. "Why won't anyone believe me?!"

It's this that broke his shoulders. "It's all my fault. I didn't protect you, I should have looked after you more."

"It's nobody's fault," Nan began. "You can't blame yourself."

"I have to blame someone!" He snapped and raked his hands through his hair.

"You are not gay! You are not!" Her mother shouted shrilly. She turned to her husband.

"Duke, talk some sense into her!"

"Get out. Get out of this house." His face was like stone, impassive and unmoveable.

Nan's face fell. "But..."

"Don't talk to me! If that's the life you've chosen I don't want you under this roof!" He pushed Nan and Peeta back up the stairs and out the door.

"It's late," she protested. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Go wherever 'your kind' hangs out!" he shouted. The door slammed in their faces.

"What do you mean my kind? My name is Nan Clements and I live here!" she howled. With tears streaming down her face she turned to Peeta. "Now what?"

With a heavy heart, guilty that this was all his fault for pushing Nan to tell her parents they explained to the Cartwright's what had happened. Luckily, they were more accepting than Nan's parents and took her in. Delly gave her a hug right away. "It's awful how your parents reacted. You can share my room, it'll be like having a sister!"

What they didn't know was that Lilia Walsh, the glazier's wife had been walking down the road during Nan's outburst and had quickly dashed over to the greengrocer's to tell her best friend Sasha all about how the poor Clements' only daughter turned out to be gay while she was in the middle of bagging groceries and in earshot of all the wives purchasing things for dinner, who told all their friends. Gossip spread fast in town and by the time Peeta sat down for dinner his mother had heard from her sister in law who heard from Luso's mother about Nan.

"Can you imagine that?" she crowed over the dinner table as if it was the most amusing thing she had ever heard.

"I always figured she was a bit of a dyke, serves her right. If any of my boys turned out queer I would give them the boot as well. Peeta, I don't want you hanging around that girl anymore in case people think it rubs off."

"Mahra you're being unreasonable," their father protested. "She's Peeta's friend, think about what she's going through."

Peeta pushed away his plate, not hungry. He worried about the next day. Of course he would ignore his mother's order, but when they went to school, how would their classmates react?

He met his friends at the corner they usually met at to walk to school together. Samus and Luso were equally supportive of Nan, which Peeta was relieved at and they set off together.

Whispers passed through the halls as they walked by, a few snickers and giggles. Some of the more silly girls hid themselves exclaiming that they didn't want her to look at them like that. Peeta glanced at Katniss, who was looking out the window, not paying the rest of the class any attention at all. She didn't seem to care either way and to be honest, neither did most of the students.

At the end of the day when they were walking home, Nan straightened her back. "You know, I think I'm glad I came out, it's a huge weight off my shoulders. It wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined… I can live with this."

Delly gave her a hug. "It was very brave of you."

Nan smiled back at her. "Delly, if it's okay, do you mind if we go get Edgar?"

They crept to Nan's house where Edgar, a few years older and greyer, a bit slower than he was when they were younger was snoozing, his tail thumping rhythmically on the ground.

Nan was untying the hemp rope that bound his leash to the fence when the door of the buttery opened. She looked up in shock, ready to bolt and it was her father. "Dad?" There was a sad expression on his face.

She stood up to look at him. Peeta and his friends drew in a sharp intake of breath. This would be it, the television moment where her father would apologize about how hastily he threw her out and say that he loved her and accepted her and they would both cry over it, and everything would be alright.

"I heard you were staying with the Cartwrights. Did you come back to take your dog?"

She nodded, hardly daring to believe what his next words would be. He threw a burlap bag at her. "Take your clothes too. And never, ever come back." The door slammed shut again.

Nan's friends huddled around her to give her a hug. "That was rough," Peeta murmured. "I thought..."

"I know. I thought he would too." She shrugged her shoulders. "But this isn't television, it's real life and not all stories have a happy ending."


	9. Chapter 9 Christmas

Peeta still couldn't help but hope Nan's parents would have a change of heart and would miss her and want their daughter back, but autumn turned into winter and the coldness of their hearts matched the coldness of the weather that blanketed the district.

This year's victor was Johanna Mason, a wildcard that came out of nowhere. It was like Peeta blinked and she went from a snivelling crybaby to a killing machine. Blink again and the Games were over.

Unfortunately, she stepped into District Twelve just when a flu bug was sweeping across the District. Peeta's older brothers were ill, along with the older teens that would cater at her victory dinner but he was thirteen and his parents decided that he would take their place.

His father straightened Peeta's bow tie and freshly starched dress shirt. "Now remember Peeta, always be courteous, tactful and diplomatic. It's not a hard job, just carry the rolls and pastries to the table and refill when they get low."

This year the bread rolls were the traditional District Seven type, a hearty ring of dark rye topped with toasted pine nuts. In the bakery there hung a Capitol-issued cookbook with specific recipes for breads of each Districts to be prepared appropriately depending on the home district of each Victor. Peeta was used to preparing the crescent shaped rolls filled with chocolate of District One, the dark rectangular wholemeal roll of District Two, and the salty fish shaped bread containing seaweed from District Four but this was his first time with District Seven and he and his father made sure to check the book every few minutes.

"I remember helping my father make the bread rolls when Blight won," his father remarked while they were working. "We got the first batch wrong, we added too much salt. Served us right for being careless."

This year Peeta and his father were extra careful and in the end the bakery was awash with the scent of fresh bread and toasted nuts when they were dusting their hands off with satisfaction.

.

He looked around for a familiar face in the banquet hall, which turned out to be a mistake. From the corner of his eye he spied Michaelis Donner with his older sister chopping chocolate and dipping strawberries. Michaelis noticed him watching them and walked over.

"Hey Peeta, do you want a marshmallow?" He held one out to Peeta, congealed chocolate over half of it.

"Really? Is this some kind of trick?" he asked warily. It wouldn't be unlike Michaelis to try and get him in trouble to laugh at him later.

"Of course not, there's always too much food leftover."

"Don't take it. We aren't supposed to eat in front of the guests, Micky's just trying to get you in trouble," his sister said, not looking up from the cutting board.

Michaelis scowled. "Aw sis, it would have been fun to see him get kicked out."

Peeta felt an urge to stick out his tongue at him but repressed it to turn back to the guests.

Johanna Mason was dressed handsomely, her long lean figure accented in a dress of leaves that clung to her arms and legs and a bark corset that laced in the front. Her dress stretched from the nape of her neck and brushed the floor in a filmy, ethereal kind of way. Next to her was her mentor, a scruffy looking man about Haymitch's age and they were chatting about the Capitolites they had met on the way.

"-gussied up like one of 'em queero-sexuals if you ask me," her mentor muttered.

She whacked him on the back of his head. "Blight! That kind of talk is homophobic."

He slunk lower in his chair. "Just sayin'."

"Waiter!" Johanna waved someone over. Peeta looked around but everyone seemed busy and with a jolt he realized that she wanted him.

He walked over hesitantly. "Yes Ms. Mason?"

"I'm sick of the music. Can you tell the musicians to play another song? I'm thinking…. Woodman Spare That Tree."

"I-I don't think the musicians know that song," he gulped. The musicians of District 12 knew a great deal of songs from Districts One, Two and Four because that was where most of the visiting victors came from but he couldn't remember a time when they had to play a song for a District 7 victor.

"Well just tell them to stop then, and I'll sing." She got up to her feet, swaying slightly and that was when Peeta realized she was drunk.

"Ms. Mason I don't think-"

"Johanna, sit down before you make a jackass of yourself," her mentor growled. But Johanna payed them both no heed and tottered over to the director and whispered something in his ear. He looked slightly horrified but he couldn't say no to a victor.

Johanna kicked off her heels and climbed on stage, by now all the guests and the staff were staring at her in half horror half fascination.

She cleared her throat and began to sing. "Woooooodmaaaaaaan, seeepaaareeee thaaaat treeeeeeee!" she screeched. She was _by far_ the worse singer he had ever heard. Her voice was nothing like Katniss. The entire crowd cringed and Peeta felt as if his ears was bleeding. He could have sworn he heard a wineglass in the corner of the room shatter.

Blight had climbed on stage too and was trying to chase a very drunk Johanna but she was surprisingly quick and skipped away from his grabs.

"Tooouuuuchhh noooooooot a siiiiiiingleeeee boooouuuuughhhhh," she warbled as she ducked and weaved from an exasperated Blight. Even Haymitch had taken pity on the mentor and had gotten up to help. Unfortunately he too was drunk, and the effect was almost like a comedy act, two drunken buffoons trying to catch an even drunker girl. Haymitch's shoe accidentally trod on the hem of Johanna's gown and she tripped over the edge of the stage, her arms windmilling.

"In yooooooouuuuuth it sheeeeiiit-" she hovered precariously over the edge of the stage and her thin gown began to tear at the seams before it gave out and tore completely, Johanna plummeting to the ground rather gracelessly without half her dress.

Blight and Haymitch peered over the edge at Johanna, splayed on the ground and still in a daze.

"Whoops."

Thinking quickly, Peeta grabbed a spare tablecloth and draped it over Johanna's waist to cover her modesty.

Even quicker, Blight swaddled her up with the tablecloth so that she couldn't move and hoisted her over his shoulder. "We're goin' now, before she embarrasses us anymore," he growled.

Haymitch burped. "Glad her talent ain't singing."

At the end of the day, Peeta and the rest of the staff was cleaning up, stacking chairs, sweeping and tidying up when the mayor handed out the pay packets.

"Before he left, Blight added a little something for you, to thank you for your help."

Peeta began to protest that he really didn't do much but the mayor pressed the envelope in his hand nonetheless. "Consider it a bonus, use it buy presents for Christmas."

Peeta's eyes widened when he opened the envelope and saw there was an extra thousand Gil on top of the agreed upon amount.

That's right. It would be Christmas soon, where school would let out and even the miners would get a day off to spend with their family. It was the busiest season for most of the shops in town.

The week of Christmas the bakery was awash in the smells of gingerbread and sugar cookies in the shapes of trees and bells and angels. The Mellarks were busy as usual with the expected rush orders of cakes and treats for the special occasion, but as always they had help during the holidays.

Uncle Kenrick and Aunt Clara from the District's inn were there to lend a hand during the busy season. Plus they always brought the best presents, this year they had gotten Peeta a book of thick fine paper which he was ecstatic over to have a better canvas for drawing. Rye had got a carved wooden flute and right now was making a big racket, having about as much musical talent as Johanna Mason while their mother threatened on clobbering him if he didn't shut up soon. Klein had got a glossy new book in the detective series he was reading in front of the toasty fire, oblivious to the noise his family was making.

In the kitchen against the thwrak thrwak thrawk! of dough being tossed against the counter under uncle Kenrick's expert hands sounded. "Thanks again for the help, it's good to have you in the bakery again. Reminds me of when we were younger." Peeta's father said as he hurried past him with a hot tray of pastries. "Anything for my little brother," uncle Kenrick smiled. At the Inn he was the one who woke before dawn to light the first fire of the kitchen to bake the first bread of the day.

On the mantleplace, christmas cards depicting scenes of snowy landscapes and reindeers were propped up behind poinsettias from the florist as stockings hung above a crackling fireplace. On television blared Christmas specials about Santa Claus delivering presents and being generous this season. Paper snowflakes cut out from his childhood was taped on the windows along with tinsel, and down the street he could hear carolers and the tinkling of their jingling bells. Their mother hated carolers and grumbled about how she would like to stamp them out but their father would secretly slip them some broken cookies when she wasn't around.

Behind the counter aunt Clara made friendly chatter with the customers, town and Seam alike. She had plump red cheeks and wrinkles that were from smile lines and wore long dresses with aprons, it was no wonder younger children would mistake her for Mrs. Claus. The constant chime of the bell jingled as streams of customers walked in and out and as his mother counted the money with a satisfied smile that maybe, at the end of the year they would manage to be in the black.

Peeta kept busy, stocking the pastries and cookies and buns that kept on running low as they flew off the shelves when the bell chimed and in walked Gale Hawthorne.

"Ah Hazelle's boy, what can I do for you?" Aunt Clara beamed. "I'm here to pick up a cake." He handed her a receipt.

"Ah sure, Peeta," she called "can you get Mr. Hawthorne's cake from the back?"

Peeta glanced at the receipt. He remembered making it, carefully piping whipping cream in strawberries with two black sesame seeds as eyes to make mini santa clauses. It was really the town that celebrated Christmas the way the Capitol told them to, with Santa Claus and songs. In the Seam they came from a different culture that celebrated in January with their own dishes and traditions but they got a holiday today and many simply bowed to Panem and went along with the Capitol. Peeta brought out the cake from the back and Gale brightened when he saw it. "Thanks for doing such a good job, it looks great. The kids are gonna love it."

Peeta packed it in a white box and tied the top with plastic twine. "Be careful, it's a large cake," he warned Gale as he handed it over the counter.

"I know. It's not just for my family, we're celebrating with the Everdeens as well." It was like a low blow to Peeta's stomach, that Gale was rubbing it in that he was closer to Katniss than he was. "Merry Christmas Peeta."

Peeta forced his lips into a stiff smile. "Merry Christmas Gale."

During Christmas dinner he was sullen as usual, despite the delectable fare. Today the rolls they ate were fluffy and fresh instead of stale, with generous lashings of butter. On his plate was turkey, mashed potato, gravy and sweet corn.

"Peeta, you're so quiet!" Aunt Clara exclaimed and pinched his cheeks. Unfortunately, she and Uncle Kenrick weren't able to have their own children. But then again, it might have been a blessing because when there were too many children, the parents would have to struggle to decide who would take over the family business.

"Kenrick, it was so great to have you back. And even during the rest of the year there's plenty of work to to do, are you sure you don't want to come back to the bakery?" There was unspoken in his words that yes, there was a lot of work but there wasn't enough money to support even one more mouth in the family. He thought about Nan, who knew all sorts of wines but couldn't stay at the Cartwright's shoe shop forever.

He shook his head and patted his massive stomach. "Nope. Thanks for the offer, but the Inn needs me more. Old Doug Inner might be the best cook in District Twelve but he can't do bread if it walked up to him and introduced itself." The two of them laughed at his joke.

Peeta's fork clattered as he stood up and thought of something. "Doug Inner, he wouldn't happen to need a barmaid would he?" He explained about Nan's current situation and his uncle listened to him, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully.

"Yes, at night the Capitol folk really do like good mixed drinks and a pretty girl to pour for them. Plus the fact they are very accepting of different sexualities so Doug wouldn't have a reason to not hire her. I'll speak with him tomorrow."

It seemed like Doug Inner agreed with Uncle Kenrick because in no time at all Nan had moved from Delly's room to the Inn.

"Your aunt and uncle are so nice!" she exclaimed when they were walking home from school. "They're always telling me that they weren't able to have their own children so they treat me like their own daughter. Oh, I do have to sleep in a closet under the stairs but Edgar gets kitchen scraps all the time, and the Capitol people are so supportive when I explain about my parents." She turned to him. "Thank you so much Peeta. I think I'll be alright."

Peeta smiled at her words, happy that something worked out for her after all.


	10. Chapter 10 Sports Day

Winter melted and the ground softened. Animals came out of hibernation and birds that had migrated south came back, tweeting merrily as if they had never left. Peeta continued with watching Katniss walk home from school everyday, working at the bakery and trying to muster the courage to talk to her but always failing.

 _I'll tell her tomorrow._ He told himself as he watched her small figure disappear into the distance before turning to walk home himself.

Soon spring came and with the softening ground came sports day.

That day at school the desks lay abandoned, the halls deserted with just a single paper airplane left forgotten as it swooped to the ground from a breeze of a window purposely left open. The classrooms were empty and a chair sat at an angle forlorn as if someone had clattered to their feet hastily and left it in a hurry.

Everyone was standing outside, in front of the track, the school groundskeeper had laid it with freshly white chalk measuring the lanes. Peeta and his classmates wore different coloured headbands as they stretched and jumped up and down to warm up.

"So what's the schedule?" Luso asked. The most curious thing about him, Peeta marveled was that when he first met Luso he had the lightest, buttery blonde hair, but over the years it had darkened shade by shade and now it was a dark brown, almost black.

Sports Day in Panem was basically a festival that promoted sports and physical health. Peeta looked over the schedule, this morning's events included the sack race, wrestling, a three legged race, tug of war, and a relay race before lunch. All the students in the upper school competed against everyone, there were no differentiation between the grades and sexes. After all, in the Hunger Games everyone played the same game between age groups and male and female.

"Hey Peeta," one of the boys in his class waved him over. "Your brother's head of the sports day planning committee, any idea what's going on in the final relay?"

Peeta shook his head. Klein had been incredibly close-lipped about the events in the main event which took place later in the afternoon, an obstacle course including a number of different challenges. Participation was optional, however there was a bit of prize money for the winning team so there was always interest. For the past week Rye had been relentlessly calling their brother 'Seneca Klein' for his role as a kind of pseudo-Gamemaker in drafting this year's main event.

The morning started as usual with Delly, clumsy and uncoordinated making a mess of herself tripping over her own feet at the sack race. Peeta, to his surprise managed to come in second in wrestling in the school competition, only after Rye. Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise, he thought as he stretched his sore muscles, the younger Mellark boys knew how to take a beating. When drawing names for partners for the three-legged race he desperately hoped to draw Katniss but no luck, he got Rosalind Walsh who did little more than giggle and flip her hair back causing them to come in last. The tug of war was nothing short of a fiasco, with both sides shouting taunts at each other as the red handkerchief tied to the centre of the rope jerked back and forth. Eventually Lowell Mathers was so sick of the boredom he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket and slashed the rope, causing both sides to tumble down and scatter, resulting in a loss on his side.

During the relay race Peeta kept his eyes on Katniss, enraptured by the way her jersey fluttered in the wind and how her shorts bunched up when she ran. She was fast, one of the fastest girls but unfortunately her short legs couldn't keep up with the longer strides of the taller girls. He was so busy gawking at her he didn't notice the baton in his hand until his team was screaming at him to run, and so he did, his face flaming at the embarrassment at zoning out, because by now his team was in dead last. He slammed the baton onto the next person's hand as if it was a hot potato.

Later at lunch he was guzzling cold water. He and his friends, sweaty, aching and sore from the morning's events were commiserating with each other and swapping tales when the teachers came around with boxes of numbers to draw teams for people who wanted to compete in the final relay. Peeta had his eye on Katniss who had refused, then ducked off with Gale. Probably to use up the time to hunt in the woods together, he thought.

"So Peeta, are you sure you don't know what's going on in the afternoon's exciting relay?" Samus asked for the uptenth time. Peeta shook his head and reached into the box. Number 5. The box reached Delly but she held up a hand to push it away, she was done with sports as far as she was concerned.

 _Click_

There was the sound of a camera and a bright flash of lights, Peeta and his friends turned to see a Capitol photographer snapping pictures of the students for the District News section.

"Hey, Messala!" Nan waved to a slim young man with several piercings.

To their surprise he grinned at them and jogged over. "Nan, surprised to see you here."

"Why would you be? I told you I was still in school," she laughed. "Anyway these are my friends, can you show us some of the pictures you took?"

He nodded and turned his camera around and pressed a few buttons. Squares the size of his fingernail popped up and he tapped on the most recent ones.

A student passing a baton to their teammate.

A student sticking out their chest to break the ribbon at the sack race.

Peeta tumbling to the floor when his brother slammed him down.

Peeta's look of furrowed concentration during one of the races.

Peeta and his friends sitting on the grass, their faces flushed and talking animatedly.

"Wow Peeta, you're in here a lot," Delly remarked.

"Well your friend here is very photogenic," said Massala, giving them a glimpse of a metal ball pierced in his tongue. "The camera just seems to gravitate towards him. Oh, got to go, it looks like the final event is starting."

On the whiteboards in front of the field the teachers were furiously scribbling names of students in each team, shouts and roars and high-fives and groans as everybody jostled to see who they were teamed up with.

To his delight, Peeta was teamed up with Nan and Luso, then to his horror, Michaelis.

He groaned inwardly but took his place at the starting line. He could already see the race track set up, standard fare there was a net they would have to crawl under, the most worrying thing was a mud pit which seemed to span a few meters.

Klein and the other sport's team committee members were carrying microphones which they would use to shout instructions at them.

The four members of each team took places at the four points. The gunshot rang out and the first runners of each team ran. "Okay the first obstacle is crawling down under the net!"

Some of their teachers began throwing buckets of something squishy over their students frantically crawling.

"Ewwwww it's slugs," a girl squealed and tried frantically to pull them out of her hair.

"They're harmless, get back in the game Bristol," one of her teammates snapped.

"Ugh Klein, when we get home I'm going to MURDER you," Rye bellowed, sounding almost like their mother as he snarled and crawled furiously.

Luso wiggled his lanky frame down through the tall grass, ignoring the slimy writhing insects landing on his head and shoulders and Peeta cheered as his friend approached. "Next obstacle, the two members of the team must use the saws to cut lengths of wood as indicated and sew two blankets together for the next segment of the race!"

Peeta grabbed a saw and began frantically cutting the wooden pole while Luso grabbed a whalebone needle and tough thread and pricked himself several times as he sewed madly, messy criss-crossing stitches down the centre. While they ran towards Michaelis they noticed the members of the sport's day committee tying their third team member's hands and feet together with rope.

"Okay your third team member is 'injured' and you have to carry them using the stretcher you've assembled!" Peeta groaned inwardly, but quickly knotted the four corners of the blanket on the poles and helped Luso dump Michaelis' body onto their makeshift stretcher.

"Hey be gentle, I'm injured," he snapped.

The third leg of their journey had them slogging through the mud pit, which to Peeta's horror was getting deeper, from his ankles, to knees, to his hips. All the teams began to struggle, some flat-out forfeiting at this stretch.

"What the hell is wrong with your brother Peeta? Is he trying to kill us?" Luso grunted, struggling to lift the stretcher high enough so that Michaelis wouldn't drown.

"Higher peasants," Michaelis' voice rang out snobbishly.

Finally one team, the seniors made it out of the mud pit, and began dashing towards the final stretch, ending right at the school where one window was open in the second story. "Aaaaand the final obstacle, the three members must stand on each other's shoulders while the fourth member climbs them to get through the window where the prize is sitting, right on Mr. Douglas' desk!"

Everyone came to a screeching halt.

 _Are you serious?_

Thom and Bristol and Leevy looked at each other and shrugged. Their fourth member was a small bird-like fourteen year old, light enough for them to support and they began assembling themselves into a teetering column.

"Well, get a move on, they're about to win," Michaelis exclaimed.

Aching, muddy, and ready to collapse, Peeta caught Luso's eye and he nodded grimly. In unison they dumped a squealing Michaelis face-down into the mud and ditched, walking back from where they came from.

"Augghhhhh!" came his muffled scream as he sank, hands and feet bound and unable to struggle out of his bounds, sinking, sinking, until the committee members dashed in to rescued him.

"Well let's call it a day," Luso said flippantly, stretching his aching arm back.

"Yes, let's," said Peeta, who right now looked forward to nothing more than a nice hot shower.


	11. Chapter 11 Rosalind

In spring, as the sun emerged from the clouds and animals emerged from hibernation something else emerged as well, Spring Harmony day. A day where young men would give gifts to young women they fancied, maybe as an obligation, or maybe something more….

Peeta never could participate, after all he was too shy to approach the girl he really liked. But maybe, if he left a gift in her desk anonymously?

He considered it, mulling it back and forth in his mind over algebra class as the rest of the class struggled to find x and y he sketched a heart shaped cookie in the margins, with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. He would wrap it in a white paper bag and tie it with a ribbon he decided, and casually slip it into her desk with a note saying, "from a secret admirer".

 _Yes, that's what I'll do. There's only one bakery in District 12 so Katniss will put two and two together and realize that it's from me._

Spring Harmony day arrived with girls blushing and giggling and boys stammering out greetings.

Peeta came in early in the morning to slip Katniss' gift in her desk but to his shock he saw several boys in his class having the same idea and slipping gifts in the girls they fancied desks. Peeta darted out of the room, clutching his package to his chest with his heart thumping. He couldn't go in now, he didn't dare go in and risk being everyone knowing he liked Katniss!

Luso mustered up the courage to go up to Rosalind Walsh, the pretty glazier's daughter and hand her a card sealed in a white envelope and a heart over the seal.

She smiled at him and took it. "So who's it from?"

Luso practically turned to stone.

"Who's it from?! What do I look like, the flipping mailman?" he complained to his friends afterwards, resting his head on his desk. Peeta felt sorry for him, knowing what it felt like to have a one sided love.

"What did your letter say anyway?" Delly asked out of curiosity. Her own desk was full of tons of small obligation gifts because she was cheerful and friendly with everyone.

Luso blushed and turned away. In response he pulled out a sheet of paper from his notebook and scribbled out a poem, filled with sickly descriptions of her sapphire eyes like pools that he drowned in, and her skin as white and smooth as porcelain and on and on it went for twelve nauseating stanzas where he rhymed love with dove and hair with dare. "You've got it bad," Samus said flatly when they were done reading.

"I know, but I don't think she'll ever even look my way."

Peeta, suddenly feeling sorry for his friend, remembered he had a gift he never gave in his bag. "Here Luso, you can give this to her. Someone ordered it for yesterday but they never came to pick it up," he lied. "Thanks Peeta," he said hopefully. He got up to give her the gift and when he was out of earshot Nan scowled. "You know, I'm actually glad she rejected him. Rosalind Walsh is as dumb as a brick and about as deep as a puddle."

"I think she's a lovely person," Delly interjected, "her mother's best friends with Luso's mother so I think they've known each other since forever. And she's really nice, whenever I say hi she always stops to have an earnest conversation with me."

"Well, that's because she's a huge gossip," Nan declared, sinking lower into her seat. First period started and Mr. Douglas handed out peppermints to every girl in the class. It would be the same for the rest of the day, all of the male teachers handing out treats to the female students. Once, Samus had been so mad at the unfairness their teachers included him as well but he needn't have worried because during Fall Harmony Day the female teachers reciprocated to the male students. It was these two days of the year that the Donner's sweet shop did especially well, thought Peeta.

In any case, at lunch Luso kept glancing at Rosalind's table, where she cackled with her coven and kept pointing and laughing at their table. Peeta had no idea what it meant but after school when they were about to walk home together Rosalind flung herself at Peeta's neck with a huge grin on her face. "Peeeeeeetaaaaa, walk me home," she squealed.

"Wait what?" The entire group screeched to a halt. "Peeta?"

Everyone's head turned towards him. _I didn't do anything!_ He tried to relay telepathically and held up his hands in surrender. At this point Rosalind was tugging on his hand and pulling him away. "Can you carry my bag too?" Before he could answer she dumped her bag over his shoulder, causing him to nearly topple over.

"Wait Rosalind, don't you mean to ask Luso to walk you home?" she shook her head with a grin.

"Nope, I don't like Luso that way, he's like a brother to me. I like _you_." By this time they were very far from the rest of their friends and Peeta nearly fell over in shock. When he finally managed to regain the use of his speech he finally managed to ask why.

"Because all my friends agreed that you're smart, and cute and sensitive. Everybody likes you!" she exclaimed. Peeta skidded to a halt as he considered her words.

"Everyone?" he asked shyly hoping that Katniss was one of those people.

"Well maybe not as much as me, after seeing you nearly win the wrestling competition at sports day I realized how cool you were and I really wanted to hang out with you." She sank to her knees and clutched his waist and stared at him with her big brown eyes. "You like me too, don't you Peeta?"

He was torn. The truth was he liked another girl who didn't know he existed, and he would be betraying his friend if he said yes, but right now Rosalind looked so vulnerable and helpless he couldn't bear to crush her feelings. "Yes," he said finally. "I like you."

Little did he know how much those words would damn him.

In the following days to come many new couples sprang up in school, as it usually did following a Harmony Day and this year Peeta found himself trapped in one. There was an icy sort of tension at lunch where Luso pointedly ignored Peeta and sat so far away from him he was practically at the next table. _It's not my fault though_ , Peeta thought petulantly, _I can't control who Rosalind likes._ While walking to their next class Rosalind clamped Peeta's hand tightly to hers as she chattered about how Maria's skirt was just a shade too short and how Aran kept staring at Brunhilde in English while Peeta zoned out. Rosalind talked faster than anyone he ever knew, which meant that she was able to cram in a good more words in a shorter time.

"Wait, stop here." They stopped at a row of lockers right outside their classroom. "Kiss me," she demanded and placed his hands around her waist.

"What?"

"Pleaseeeeee," she begged, pouting and blinking her large eyes. "You're my boyfriend and that's what couples do."

Peeta's heart thudded as she closed her eyes and puckered her lips. He couldn't just refuse so he took a deep breath and braced himself as he rammed his lips against hers. It only lasted a second, but when he pulled away he noticed to his horror that Katniss Everdeen was standing right there and staring straight in their direction. He began to panic, what if Katniss thought they were together? Well they were, but it would ruin every iota of a chance with her if she thought they were really serious. But there was no flicker of recognition on Katniss' blank face. It was as if she was staring at something right behind him and when Peeta looked up he saw a poster exclaiming that the deadline for returning library books before late fees were charged was approaching and he realized she might have been staring at the poster all along. Still, he felt ashamed of himself either way.

Peeta was taking notes dutifully in class when he felt a note land on his desk. He checked to make sure the teacher had her back to the class before opening it.

 _Hi Peeta, that kiss was really good, I can still feel it on my lips. Do you want to come to my house after school to do it again? -Rosalind_

Peeta began wracking his brain for an excuse.

 _Sorry, can't. I have to help my parents at the bakery. -Peeta_

He passed it the the person beside him. A second note came quicker than he expected.

 _You're a piece of crap. Kissing you was as fun as licking a toilet seat. -Rosalind_

Peeta almost snorted out loud in amusement. Even if this note had arrived before the other one the messy left slanted scrawl gave it away. Peeta turned around to glare at Michaelis who was looking away with mock innocence. He turned back to his desk where another note was waiting for him.

 _Okay then, I'll come to your house then after chores. -Rosalind_

Another note fluttered to his desk.

 _Some friend you are._

It wasn't signed but with a sinking feeling in his stomach Peeta had a feeling he knew who it was from. Yet another note was slipped on his desk and Peeta was starting to feel annoyed. Since when was he so popular?

He unfolded it noisily, not caring anymore.

 _Peeta, if you don't stop passing notes soon, Mrs. Thomas is going to notice! -Delly_

"Mr. Mellark, you seem to have a lot of extra paper on your desk," the teacher's dry, unamused voice rang out. Peeta's head jerked up. He frantically tried to gather the notes but Mrs. Thomas beckoned him up with a finger.

"To the front of the class please, you know the rules." The punishment for passing notes in her class was to read it in front of the class.

"Please miss, can't I just have detention?" he pleaded. She shook her head.

With his cheeks burning he clenched the notes in his hand and strode to the front. Mrs. Thomas peered over his shoulder as he read, with agonizing dread the notes in order that he received them. When he got to the last one the class burst out laughing.

Delly turned bright pink and ducked her head in shame. Mrs. Thomas' stone face never wavered.

"Well I hope that teaches you all a lesson about passing notes in class." The bell rang and everyone hurriedly packed their books and shouldered their bags to go home.

"Bye Peeta, see you later," Rosalind called cheerfully, undeterred by today's events. Luso swept by, knocking Peeta on his shoulder so forcefully he stumbled.

"Serves you right," he muttered. Peeta was in a bad mood by the time he got home. He slammed the door open.

"Dad I need to help with the bakery today! Give me a lot of work, later a girl's going to come by and I want to honestly say I'm too busy to see her."

"A girl?" his father cocked his head. He chuckled. "So you're at that age already. Alright, who is it?"

"Rosalind Walsh," he said gloomily.

His mother popped up from behind the counter. "The glazier's daughter? They're one of the better-off families in the district, we're going to have to have her over for dinner."

"Rye!" she bellowed, "Go to the butcher's for a nice cut of pork, and when you get back get out the good china!"

"No mum please, don't make a big deal," he pleaded.

"Don't be stupid," she snapped. "Rosalind's an only child and she'll be inheriting the family business one day. It would be best if her family took you in, after all did you think the bakery was big enough for all three of you?"

Peeta was stunned. It was like a slap in the face, even though he always knew in the back of his mind that the bakery couldn't support both Uncle Kenrick and their father he had childishly believed that he and his brothers would stay there forever.

"Dad?" he asked in a daze. His father avoided his eyes.

"I'll get one of the fresh cakes from the back for dessert," he said simply, and ducked away.

It turned out he needn't have bothered. Rosalind brought over a large box of luxurious chocolates for their family. "I already ate the hazelnut ones because they're my favourite," she confessed, "but I felt bad about eating the rest because Michaelis Donner gave them to me for Spring Harmony Day and I really don't feel that way about him."

Then she had dragged Peeta up to his room saying that she needed him to tutor him in math. The truth was, she did need help. Peeta was pretty good at algebra, but Rosalind didn't seem to know even the most basic of functions.

After explaining the quadratic equation for the fifth time Peeta was ready to slam his head down on his desk in frustration.

"Peeta what's the square root of sixteen?"

"You are seriously not asking me this at this point," he said in exasperation.

"Is it… five?" Her brows were scrunched up in concentration.

"It's four!"

She erased her answer and wrote the new one. "Oh it matches the one in the back of the book!"

Peeta inwardly groaned. Suddenly, the door opened, it was his father with a tray of biscuits and two cups of tea.

"Math homework eh?" he chuckled. "You kids take a break, okay?"

When the door closed again Peeta reached for a cup of tea when he felt a hand creep up his thigh and her lips brush his neck. He jumped about half a foot and spilt the scalding hot tea over his lap.

"Yeoooowwwwwww!" he howled as he felt the burning liquid soak his skin. "Get it off!"

"Omigosh Peeta I'm so sorry!" Rosalind wailed and used both hands to yank off his pants.

"Hey guys, I heard a loud crash, what's the commo-" Klein had quickly padded up the stairs and opened the door only to see Peeta, flushed and half naked with Rosalind holding his pants.

Klein turned red from his neck to face. "Erm, sorry for disturbing you…." The door quietly clicked shut.

"I'm sorry Peeta, I really am," Rosalind said contritely, looking indeed very sorry. "I only wanted to…."

Peeta wiped himself off and put on another pair of pants. "Don't worry about it," he said sullenly.

During dinner everyone was on their best behaviour. Their father didn't pick his teeth with his fork, their mother didn't make a single death threat, Rye was oddly subdued and didn't make a lewd joke even once.

"This was great, your family's lovely," Rosalind clasped both his hands in hers.

"It was our pleasure to have you over dear," his mother said in a voice he didn't recognize.

"Maybe next Sunday Peeta could meet your parents?"

There was a sharp intake at her daringness but Rosalind was unperturbed. "Of course! Peeta you should join us for dinner that night!" When the door shut, everyone let out a breath of relief.

"Well that's that," his father unbuttoned the top button of his pants and let his stomach pop out. Peeta was about to head upstairs but his mother waved him over.

"Listen Peeta, you have to watch out for that Donner boy."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he muttered darkly, thinking of his bitter enemy. She cuffed him around his head.

"Don't get smart with me! He'll be after Rosalind too, because he's got to look elsewhere after his older sister inherits their shop. Everybody knows the Donners always favoured Marissa."

It was like that in District Twelve, birth order and sex didn't matter in terms of inheritance, it came down to the flow of time- who each sibling married and who deserved to take over. In many cases though it was whoever their parents favoured. For merchants unable to work in the family business there were other career paths in teaching, administrative work, or government roles, if their marks in school were high and had recommendations from their teachers. But even then there was always the option of even striking out on their own and opening their own business. No one had ever fallen through the cracks and had to enter the coal mines, the merchants were a tight-knit community and took care of their own.

The very elderly recoiled at the thought of their own having to sink to the level of _them,_ the natives of District Twelve. Once Peeta asked why there was sometimes such prejudice against the Seam. His father had looked solemn, and told him that a long time ago, when the merchants first settled in District Twelve they weren't treated very nicely by the natives who distrusted them as spies for the Capitol.

Nowadays both groups didn't really mix that well, there was resentment that the merchants were wealthier and didn't have to take out tesserae and risk getting reaped as much as people from the Seam. It was why from a young age children from the Seam and town played separately.

The next day Madge was handing out invitations for her birthday party, she handed one to everyone from the town in her class, and then as always one to her friend Katniss who she always sat beside and partnered up with. Peeta knew not to expect her, Katniss would always politely decline, being too busy hunting in the forest or trading but for once he wished she would go.

Peeta opened the envelope and pulled out the crisp white card with lace edging, almost a work of art. He already began anticipating an order for a large strawberry cake, which the mayor ordered every year.

When they were younger they had played party games like musical chairs and pin the tail on the donkey and pass the parcel under the supervision of the Undersee's maid and butler who made sure all the games went smoothly.

When they grew too old for those games they had started on board games and cards, which were strangely fun in a large group. Michaelis always cheated of course, stealing money from the bank during monopoly and hiding cards up his sleeve.

Now that they were nearly grown up he wondered what they would do.

He got his answer on the day of the party when Michaelis pulled out an empty wine bottle and declared that they were going to play spin the bottle. They had just gotten settled into the snacks too, peanuts and crisps and little sandwiches cut into triangles and fruit punch. Peeta turned to Madge to see her reaction but she only shrugged indifferently.

"Well if that's what everybody wants to do."

It seemed like what everybody wanted to do based on the buzz of excitement.

Everybody settled down on the polished wooden floor in a circle. Because it was Madge's birthday, she went first. Around and around it went, until it pointed to a gap between Delly and Peeta.

"Landed between people, you have to remove an item of clothing!" If Madge was hesitant, she didn't show it. Instead she gamely untied the ribbon holding back her hair and let it loose on the floor.

Peeta began to quickly run through how many articles of clothing he was wearing. Beside him, he heard Delly, ever so shy about her body squeak like a mouse.

The next person to spin was Samus, and he landed on another boy, so he got to spin again. This time it landed on Nan.

"But I'm gay," she protested, "Samus gets to spin again."

Michaelis held his wrist when he reached for the bottle. "Nope, sorry the rules of the game doesn't care about queers."

She sighed but kissed Samus all the same.

There were quite a few people to go around and after everybody got a turn they began to get restless.

"I know, let's change it the game to Seven Minutes in Heaven," Rosalind said slyly, sending a predatory look Peeta's way.

There were whoops and cheers from the boys while some girls groaned and began to say they didn't want to play anymore.

"Erm Madge, don't you want to open your presents right about now?" Peeta said frantically.

"I suppose I could." She got up to walk to the table that was loaded with gifts.

"Oh Madge you can open your presents later, it's still early," Michaelis said impatiently and tugged on her hand. Madge simply glanced at the clock, noticed it was still early, and gave the bottle another spin. It landed between Ellie and Eldritch so she took off the bracelet around her wrist and padded over to the table.

"Keep playing, during the seven minutes I'll open presents then."

Samus landed on Delly and she let out a breath of relief that it was her friend and they held hands and walked out of the room to the coat closet together while everybody else yelled lewd suggestions.

They kept time with the grandfather clock in the living room and during the seven minutes Madge had opened up a box containing a pair of tights with a cat over the kneecaps. "I ordered them for you from the catalogue, they're supposedly really popular now," said Eldritch from the floor. Well Peeta supposed they were, you would have to wear a really short skirt to be able to see the cat on top of the tights.

Two more presents later Samus and Delly emerged from the closet together, him looking triumphant, her looking relieved.

"What happened?" Peeta whispered to Delly when she sat back down next to him.

"Nothing," she said innocently, but blushed when she said it.

The game continued, with nothing extraordinary happening and Madge blithely plowing through her presents.

Eventually it was Rosalind's turn. She held the bottle in her hand, as if weighing it and thought for a long time. Peeta felt an icy shiver run down his back when she finally set it back on the floor and gave it a flick of her wrist. Around and around it went, slowing down each turn while Peeta began to bite his nails, dreading the outcome.

For a second, Peeta thought it would land on the boy next to him, but it was as if there was a sudden gust in the room that nudged it just another inch, landing on him.

The entire room burst out into cheers and Rosalind jumped up and down as if she won the lottery. Someone had picked up the confetti from the floor and was hurling it around the room. Madge looked mildly amused that it was more exciting than her actual birthday.

Peeta seemed to turn to stone as Rosalind dragged him, still on the floor to the hallway to the closet. It was quite full from their coats, the mayor's large one, his wife's fur and there was a bucket and a mop and a broom in the corner. He was plunged into darkness when the door shut and before he knew it he could feel her squishy lips on top of his and her body pressed against his. She smelled like a girl should, sweet like flowers and he could feel the curve of her breasts and hips against him, and though a part of him said it felt right, but another part of him said it felt wrong.

She used her hands to pull his under her dress and he yanked them away as if it was a hot oven and pushed her face away.

"Peeta, what's wrong?" He couldn't see her face but she sounded confused.

"Rosalind, I'm sorry I'm being unfair to you. I can't do this anymore." He took a deep breath. "I don't feel this way towards you and I was wrong to lie and say I did. You deserve a guy who actually appreciates you, not someone like me, who doesn't."

There was a long silence.

"Rosalind?" he said hesitantly.

"Is it because you're in love with another girl?" her voice said softly.

Peeta hesitated. "Yes."

She opened the closet door quietly, so that everyone in the next room wouldn't hear.

"I suppose I can understand, that you can't be with me when you're in love with someone else."

"Thank you." He bowed his head. He was amazed, she took it better than he had expected.

"It's Katniss Everdeen isn't it?" her voice was barely a whisper.

Peeta's head jerked up and he almost fell over in surprise.

"I always suspected, from the way you're always looking at her, and how you watch her walk home from school everyday."

Peeta was absolutely bowled over. He had never told a single soul, but somehow Rosalind knew. Maybe she was smarter than everyone gave her credit for, he thought, feeling a surge of gratefulness at how understanding she was.

Later that night when Peeta told his family that they had broken up, their mother shrieked at him for a solid hour and smashed three plates, but when he went to bed that day he was relieved that he was able to be honest. Luso's coldness had also thawed once they dissolved their relationship, and everything went back to normal.


	12. Chapter 12 Bread From Hell

Peeta woke up to a broomstick thumping the floor of bedroom, also the roof of the bakery and his mother's shriek, "Peeta, I need you!"

With a yawn he staggered to the bathroom and turned on the sink to wash up. Ever since Klein finished school and managed to get through his last Reaping that summer their mother had been plotting to match him up with Marissa Donner, Michaelis' older sister and the mayor's niece. Their mother had high ambitions for Klein, wanting to set him up to be the next mayor once mayor Undersee retired. Madge was out of the question for her sons because the Mellarks and Undersees were second cousins (many families in town were related some way or another) but by casually sliding in Klein in the mayor's wife's family she hoped to put him right there in their business to advance his own position.

But their mother wasn't the only one with that idea. Ever since Marissa had taken over the sweetshop, many young men had come calling, but she had refused them all. She was cool and aloof, a regal beauty with crimson hair and starry blue eyes and an alluring figure. It seemed to make sense that her parents were holding out for the best match possible. Nobody knew what would satisfy the Donners, they had received a great deal of gifts, a gleaming grandfather clock from the District's craftsman, a curved armour from the carpenter's son, an endless amount of necklaces, rings and jewellry from the jeweler's son but no success, which is why Peeta blinked sleep out of his eyes while he gave a lemon rind a twist and carefully placed it on a dollop of whipped cream sprinkled powdered sugar over the tarts Klein would give as a gift.

Anyone who might make a mess out of the perfect desserts (namely Rye and their father) was banned from the kitchen while he and his mother worked.

Sometime around nine when the first customers of the day came trickling in, his mother dressed in her best dress and bonnet fussed over the state of Klein's collar and rubbed at invisible dirt on his nose with her handkerchief.

When they left, with a merry jingling of the bell Rye and their father finally peeped in from the bottom of the stairs. "Is it safe for us to come out now?"

"Yes," Peeta signed. They had to start the day late, apologizing to their customers that the bread wasn't done baking yet.

"Dad," Rye asked when they were in a lull, "who's going to get the bakery, me or Peeta?"

"You two will share it," their father said firmly. "There's plenty of work for both of you and your future families, I don't know what Kenrick is so stubborn about."

"You don't need to worry about my future family," Rye declared. "I'm never going to get married. What with all this courting and wooing business, only to get some woman nagging at me to pick up my socks and do this and that, and then screaming babies that never let you get any sleep and end up costing you all of money. Nah, it's the bachelor's life for me."

"Alright then, I guess Peeta will just have to pick up the slack and have babies to inherit the bakery." There was a twinkle in his eye when he said it and Peeta mumbled something and ducked under the counter.

The bell jingled and the two owners of the blacksmith walked it. Greyden Smith had inherited it from his grandfather, apparently a harsh and boisterous man. He had icy blue eyes and blond hair, he never smiled but scowled all the time. Clifford Harrison had dark brown hair he tied back in a ponytail, dusky skin and grey eyes, reminiscent of his Seam ancestors. He too didn't smile much, but was a brooding silent type. They were always careful to not so much as touch as they walked down the streets, let alone kiss and hug but it was obvious what their relationship was.

"Our usual order please," Grayden grunted.

Peeta silently bagged their usual order of two loaves of white bread, one raisin bun, one curry bun and four plain bagels. Rye, with one hand propping up his chin at the counter stared at them thoughtfully.

"So you two live together? Without any women?"

"Rye," their father said in a warning tone.

"Like, you two never got married?"

"Rye please don't do this!"

"Do you know what people call guys like you?"

Grayden's scowl deepened.

"Lucky bastards." Then Rye burst out laughing. Grayden and Clifford gave each other exasperated looks.

"See you next week," Grayden grunted and they were off again with the jingling of the bell. They passed Klein and their mother, who were on their way in with shocked blanched expressions on their faces.

"Well, how did it go?" their father inquired.

"She said yes, to another visit," their mother said, still in a daze. That was indeed quite an accomplishment as Marissa was known to send away callers after a few minutes, to agree to another date was almost unheard of. Peeta felt proud of his brother, then with horror realized that if they actually got married then Michaelis would be his brother in law.

In the weeks that followed Peeta woke up early to carefully weigh and sift almond flour for french macaroons, carefully glaze mini cheesecakes with a glaze as reflective as a mirror and spin the most marvelous little marzipan creations as light as air.

When doing the books their father shook his head and tightened his lips at the extra expenses but said nothing. Rye glanced over his shoulder and patted him on the back. "Don't worry old man, I won't need any of this crap since I'm not getting married and whoever Peeta's marrying can do with stale cakes."

"I should have had daughters," their father muttered under his breath and closed the books with disgust.

Their mother too, became impatient.

"It's her parents," their mother declared one day. "They've got this wistful fantasy in their heads that their daughter's beauty is enough to land the attention to some Capitol liason who'll fall madly in love with her and whisk their family away from this pitiful District to the Capitol." She waved her hand as if it was fanciful fairy tales. "Well they've made a mistake because that's never going to happen and she's not getting any younger." Most people in town got married when they were around nineteen but Marissa was almost twenty five, a young girl by Capitol standards but an old maid by District 12's.

It was all their mother would talk about, Marissa this and Marissa that. Klein was silent, which wasn't unusual but it was his own future and Peeta wondered if he didn't have more of an opinion.

At night Rye wondered the same. The three boys slept in the biggest bedroom together, Klein and Rye on bunkbeds and Peeta on his own thin bed with a chest of drawers between them and a single dust-grey rug on the floor. A bookshelf was crammed against the wall and each brother had their own possessions crammed in it, Peeta's pencil crayons, Klein's novels, Rye's mishmash of odd items. The tired wooden walls were bare save for a dreamcatcher Rye had nailed over his bed.

Peeta was awoken from his slumber when he heard the tell-tale creaking of Rye climbing down from the top bunk and the rustle as Klein sat up and Rye as well, sitting side by side.

They used to do this a lot when they were younger, Klein and Rye were closer in age together than Peeta and discussed everything under the sun when they couldn't sleep while excluding him because he was too young for their big boy conversations and wouldn't understand.

"Hey Klein, answer me honestly. Do you really want to marry Marissa?

"Well mother really wants me to and-"

"I didn't ask if mother wanted to, I asked about you," he said sharply, still in a whisper.

Klein was quiet.

"Well I have to marry someone someday anyway and Marissa is beautiful, god she's beautiful, and she comes with her own business and connections to the mayor what more can a man want?"

"Well looks aren't everything, people say that mum's beautiful and look at how she treats dad and makes us miserable. Do you think you'll be happy?"

Another long silence.

"Marissa isn't like mother at all, though cool she's always treated me with respect, and in time I'm sure we'll grow to love one another. There really isn't anyone else I prefer and if mother thinks that she's the best match for me then I'll accept."

"You're a bloody idiot, you know that Klein?"

Peeta could imagine his smile in the darkness.

"Better than a pompous fool."

"Hey!" There was a sound of someone being thumped.

"Peeta, you can stop pretending to sleep now, we need your opinion."

Peeta rolled around with a start. "How did you know I wasn't sleeping?"

"Cause your breathing was fast and shallow, idiot. Now come on."

Peeta pushed aside the covers and hesitantly sat down on Klein's other side.

"So what do you think Peeta? Is Klein doing the right thing here or will Queen Marissa ruin his life?"

"I-I don't know," Peeta admitted. "I kind of don't want to be related to Michaelis Donner but it's all down to your feelings Klein."

"My feelings?" he mused. "I don't really know, but I want Marissa to say yes to me, I want to be the one to break down her walls and make her smile. Do those feelings mean I love her?"

"Yes," Peeta said immediately. Klein had just described how he felt towards Katniss, the keen longing for the one he loved to just love him back. "You're so close Klein, just don't give up."

 _Because unlike me you actually have a chance._

He turned out to be wrong, because when he got out the ring to propose their parents had quickly shut him down and hurried him out the door and told him to stop calling. Apparently Marissa herself had not said a word but sat coolly with one hand under her chin and a foot resting on her chair, watching everything but not lifting a finger to stop her parents.

Their mother was, of course livid. So much time, so many gifts, so much hope, all for nothing! She must have broken at least five plates and Rye and Peeta ducked back and hid to not get in her warpath when she was in a temper.

Klein meekly bowed his head and brought her a cup of strong tea while she continued to rant and rage about her hard work and the crappy hand she was dealt in life.

At night after closing hours there was a knock at the back door. Peeta who had been carrying bags of flour opened it. "Yes?"

It was Marisa, in a long coat and swollen scarf over her head. She looked even more comely, her cheeks chapped red from the cold and her beautiful blue eyes framed by long lashes were bright and even more spell-binding. "May I speak to Klein please?"

"Y-yeah, would you like to come in?"

He ushered her inside to their living room. She sat down on their old sofa as if it were a throne. The Mellarks, though rich to the Seam, were dirt poor but their mother had pride and knew how to put on airs. Against the wall was a cupboard with frosted glass cupboards which displayed antique china plates from generations ago, the frosted glass hiding how chipped they were. The old cuckoo clock looked handsome but was actually broken and always read half past two. The sofa had actually broken in the middle from being so old and having so many people sit on it but their father propped empty crates underneath it, hidden from view.

Peeta hurried upstairs to fetch Klein, and whispered that Marissa had come to see him.

The entire family was understandably curious and so after the door to the living room closed Peeta and Rye wrestled over who got to listen through the keyhole until their mother walloped them both with savage ferocity and stuck her own ear against the doorknob. The boys, dirty from the scuffle crowded against the crack between the doors.

Both Klein and Marissa spoke quietly so it was already hard to eavesdrop but through their hushed murmurs Peeta could make out their conversation.

"Earlier today, despite my parents rejecting your proposal, I do want to marry you Klein."

"Really? You didn't seem like it at the time," there was what passed as anger in Klein's mild-mannered voice.

"Of course, I have to stay in my parents' good graces. If I go against their wishes I would get thrown out and trust me, our future will be better if we stayed in my family's business than if I came to the bakery."

That almost cold logic stunned Peeta.

"Please Klein, do something to change my parents' minds, I don't want to end up an old maid."

"Alright," Klein said slowly, "but tell me, why do you want to marry _me?"_

"Out of all the men I could select, I chose you because I know you'll be a gentle husband and father."

Peeta could see his brother's blush despite being in the next room.

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're nice to my brother."

Peeta almost fell over in shock.

"It was the reason I kept letting you see me. Sure, all my suitors pretended to be nice to Micky when they came over because they had to. But you…. Back when we were all younger and before I was even a sight in your horizons you acknowledged that little brat, because that's the kind of person you are. I-I remember back when I had just started upper school, I was wearing a plaid skirt and had my hair in pigtails, carrying my satchel home from school. You were only in middle school, and Micky was pestering you, wearing overalls over his yellow ducky shirt and you talked to him, all the way home. I watched from afar, glad I managed to avoid his annoying chatter but I admired you for having the patience I didn't have."

"Mother thought it was all the cakes and pastries," Klein whispered.

"No. It was never the gifts. It was you."

Their mother's expression was shocked, her eyes wide and her mouth flapping open like a fish at the market.

The two said goodnight quietly and everybody else jumped away to not seem like they were eavesdropping. Marissa strolled out the door with her back straight and a cool expression on her face, ignoring them as she walked out the door into the snowy landscape of the town.

The next day at breakfast, their mother, in a rare mood of generosity made pancakes, stacking a tall plate for Klein and drowning it in syrup she sweetly asked how last night had gone with Marissa as if she hadn't been listening in on their conversation the whole time.

Klein repeated everything that she had said about actually wanting to say yes and the entire family tried their best to act surprised as if it was the first time hearing it.

"Oh Klein," simpered their mother tipping three or four sausages onto his plate, "let mummy take care of it, I'll think of something that will make her parents say yes."

Peeta shoveled down his plate, as if the rare treat was going to run away. He wondered what exactly his mother was thinking, it couldn't be anything good but if she was helping Klein he resolved that he would just stay out of it.

That Sunday at market day it was the busiest season, the weekend before Christmas. Every family in town had a stand up, from the Cartwrights blowing hot breath on their cool fingers as they relaced boots, the Clement's stringing boughs of mistletoe over their stand to make their bottles of wines and mulled mead more festive, down to the Richard's with barrels of satsumas and plums and glace cherries that would be a once a year treat for most of the Seam.

"Hi Luso," Peeta called to his friend in the next stand.

"Hey Peeta, want a plum?" He lobbed one with a slight bruise on it at Peeta, who caught it laughing.

Peeta's mother glanced quickly at Luso's mother, setting up jars of jams and preserves on their table.

"Peeta, mind the stand I'm going to say hi to Mrs. Richards." She strolled over to Luso's mother, a smiling woman with dancing blue eyes and blonde hair back in a coronet around her head. "Sasha, you'll never guess what I just heard!" His mother swept quickly to the next stand and began whispering something in the other woman's ear.

"Oh gosh! I never thought, wait until Mana hears!" Then she herself abandoned her stall to zip across the other side to where her friend was carefully tying ribbon around a multitude of jars.

Peeta glanced at them, curious. His mother was striding triumphantly over to the chandlery's stand. Samus' mother, a short stout woman who was stacking bars of soap with gloved hands according to scent paused at Mrs. Mellark's juicy piece of gossip.

"Are you sure?" she gasped. "Now that I think of it, it does make sense! Excuse me, I have to go tell Anna!"

And it went around and around, the merchant wives of District Twelve spreading the piece of made-up gossip Peeta's mother invented. Peeta could hear lots of whispering and pointing at the Donner's stand where Marissa and her mother were selling candy canes and chocolates, always popular during the holiday season.

"Mum," Peeta said hesitantly. "What exactly have you been telling all the other merchant wives?" He was almost afraid to know.

"Oh, just that it must be that Marissa has been rejecting every man that calls on her to because she secretly prefers women," his mother said proudly. "If the Donner's want to keep their pride they're going to _have_ to marry her off quickly."

Peeta was stunned, he didn't know whether to admire her cleverness or be terrified of her ambitious single- minded ruthlesness.

"Mum, you can be really scary, you know that?" Rye said in amazement.

Klein and Marissa wed right after Christmas, when both their family businesses had just been flush with cash. Marissa had been fitted for a new dress, nothing extremely lavish, something that she could rewear as Sunday best and Klein wore some smart clothes that complimented her and celebrated in a small hall in the Justice Building. There had been hot chocolate, fluffy bread rolls to dip in it, a large frosted cake, and of course the requisite bread for the toasting.

"You know, we're brothers now," Michaelis announced with a smirk when Peeta was just enjoying himself. "That means we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other."

"Don't remind me, Peeta groaned." He turned his attention back to the bride and groom. Klein looked happier than he had ever seen him, and Marissa was, to everyone's shock, smiling. They said their vows, Klein moved in the small house they were assigned in town and they were husband and wife.

At that time Marissa was twenty five, Klein was nineteen.

.

"You know, I miss Klein already," Rye said that night when they climbed into bed. It was strange for the bottom bunk lay empty as Rye and Peeta stared at the ceiling.

"Peeta, if you sleep in the bottom bunk we can move your bed to the storage and have more room in here."

"I know." But he made no motion to move.

It was strange not to have their brother around anymore, everybody bustling around storming and doing the chores he would have done. During dinner his place at the table was empty, no plate and cup.

.

However somewhere in the winter both their parents fell ill, coughing and feverish, they both tried to get out of bed but the doctor adamantly ordered bedrest.

"I know you two have work to do, but I can't have you contaminating everything and spreading bacteria throughout the bread everyone eats." And then he packed up his stethoscope in his bag and marched out, leaving Peeta and Rye.

Wearing a mask over his face their father beckoned them over. "You two will have to take care of the bakery for a couple of days, just until we get better. Do you think you can manage?"

Rye nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Leave it to us, we're gonna be doing this when we take over the bakery from you anyway."

Their father smiled weakly. "Thank you, boys."

But Peeta was more hesitant. "Rye, are you sure we can do this?" he whispered when they left their room.

His brother waved off his concerns. "Of course, we've been doing this for years, we both know everything there is to know about the bakery." He was right, but there was still a niggling feeling that they were on a tightrope when it came to their finances. Klein's wedding had been expensive and any misstep, waste a bag of flour or fail to sell a tray of buns before they got stale and their family would suffer.

At first everything seemed to go smoothly, they set off in their familiar routine of opening, bringing out ingredients from the fridge, uncovering the shelves in bread, lighting the oven fire.

It was Sunday, their busiest day and as soon as they flipped the sign to open it seemed that everyone in the District came trickling in.

"I'll handle the front, you go make the bread," Rye said uncertainly. On Sunday mornings it was always two people who handled customers.

Peeta ducked into the back and turned on the mixer. From the front voices seemed to be getting louder, "Boys, the labels have been mixed up!"

"Rye, these bagels aren't fresh!"

"Hey, you didn't pay for that!"

Peeta worked as quickly as he could, grabbing ingredients haphazardly and dumping them in the bowl. He kneaded like a deranged man and as soon as he set the dough to double in size he went to help his brother.

"Frick, why is it busier than usual just when mom and dad are sick," Rye muttered. The store was fuller than usual, an undulating sea of people. If their mother were here she would have been pleased by the number of customers and money.

They somehow got everyone in a long snaking line that went out the door and rapidly helped each customer get what they wanted.

Peeta happened to glance at the clock. "Oh no, I should have baked the bread ten minutes ago!"

"Well hurry up, then!"

He dashed back and put the waiting loves on a wooden board and into the oven. By now the crowd had thinned but was muttering about how long they had to wait, and if the Mellark boys were more considerate they would have been more prepared.

Irritation brushed across Peeta's spine. _We're trying as hard as we can!_

The store slowly emptied as Peeta and his brother got the rest of the customers their bread, but he wasn't watching the time until a bitter acrid smell reached their nostrils.

"The bread!" they cried in unison.

They dashed to the back and Rye donned a pair of heavy oven mitts and seized the tray. They coughed as the grey smoke seeped out of the oven door in a hot cloud and fanned it away frantically.

When the smoke cleared they saw that the buns were blackened beyond belief, almost pulsating as if alive with the energy of the heat.

Rye let out a low whistle. "Peeta, I'm blaming you."

Peeta swung around incredulously. "This isn't all my fault, I had to bake the bread and help you in front too!"

Slowly, Rye took a knife and sliced himself a small bit from one of the loaves, it was still soft and light on the inside but the crust crumbled to ash when he picked it up and he took a bite.

"Blegh!" He began swiping at his tongue to get the taste out and turned on the sink to gulp at the water.

"It's horrible, I feel like I'm going to throw up!"

Peeta raked his hands through his hair furiously. "We can't... we can't just waste it all..." It was the entire day's worth of fresh loaves of their most popular selling bread. He stared at it and saw money that he had set on fire and let burn.

He felt weak, and began to panic. It was just near the end of the month, before they had to order more supplies, and they had just maxed out their credit and needed to pay it off. Just this one careless mistake set them back and they might not be able to buy flour for next month because he was so stupid!

Rye must have seen the distraught look on his face because Peeta felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Okay don't panic Peeta, we can fix this."

Peeta stared at his older brother. "How?"

"Lemme think." Rye scowled and brooded, pacing up and down the floor. He stopped and strode to the front, where the chalkboard on the counter advertised the daily specials.

Peeta peered over his shoulder where Rye was now writing "Bread From Hell, 5000 Gil prize for finishing it in 10 minutes." And then in an asterisk near the bottom, "500 Gil fine for any food left on plate."

Peeta was speechless. "Bread From Hell? Rye what are you thinking?"

"Well like you said, we can't just waste it, it's our best way to recoup our losses and make our money back."

"But do we even have 5000 Gil?" Peeta was aghast at the idea.

Rye jumped behind the counter and opened the register. "Yep, we have just enough. After one person wins we're done but Peeta, no one's gonna win."

"You don't know that," he protested, but was interrupted by the chiming of the bell at the door.

"Our usual order," Greyden grunted. It was Greyden and Clifford from the town blacksmith, right on time.

Rye brightened up and motioned for Peeta to take his lead. "Good afternoon gentlemen, can I interest you in this promotion we're running?" He pointed to the board.

"Bread From Hell?" Clifford smirked and nudged his companion slyly. "What do you say Greyden, you've always said you had an iron stomach."

"Well that's because I have to suffer your damn cooking," Greyden said sourly, but there was a glint of something soft in his eyes.

"Five thousand Gil? That's a lot of money boys, you sure you can make good on it?"

Rye nodded."We wouldn't advertise it if we didn't have the money. And you two would be the first to try, what do you say?"

The two men looked at each other, and nodded.

"Fine. Two of those 'Breads From Hell'."

Rye motioned for Peeta to get the bread from the back and Peeta brought over two loaves on two plates.

Hesitantly, he set it down in front of Greyden and Clifford and looked to Rye for confirmation. He gave him a nod, then turned over the hourglass he had managed to procure from behind the desk. Peeta recognized it was an old gift from Auntie Clara and Uncle Kenrick.

The two blacksmiths began to shove the bread into their mouths but after the first bite stopped, gagged, and began retching.

"Feh! This is foul!" Greyden spat.

"I can't eat this, I'm going to be sick!" Clifford was clutching his stomach and looking like he wanted to vomit.

Rye smirked. "Well then, I guess you two have to pay up."

The two men handed them five hundred Gil each with no complaints, then rushed out the door.

"Rye, that bread seriously isn't edible," Peeta pleaded. "It's no use making money if people are going to die from eating from eating at our bakery!"

Rye simply brushed him off as he counted the money.

"If we manage to just get a few more customers we could make back what we would have from the ruined bread."

Peeta groaned, knowing nothing good could come from this.

The next few customers were women, shopping for their families and not interested in the "Bread From Hell", then a pair of Capitol liasons who challenged each other and failed. A few children with a single penny for a stale roll of bread. Some teens from the Town who liked a good dare. Haymitch, who misread the sign and took a loaf home to eat later. ("Well he's going to have a nice surprise," Rye muttered) And later in the afternoon just before closing Mr. Cartwright stepped through the door holding a giant tureen of soup for the ill Mellarks.

"Danny-boy, I got the missus to make some chicken noodle soup to help you and Mahra get well," he roared as he kicked open the door. Mr. Cartwright was a barrel-chested large built man, with calves as thick as hams and broad shoulders, powerful like an ox. Right now he looked almost silly with oven mitts carrying a steaming tureen with a tea towel over the handles.

Rye hastened to shush him. "Shhh, mom and dad are sleeping, they have to rest, doctor's orders."

"Oh sorry." Mr. Cartwright lowered his voice to a whisper.

Peeta took the heavy tureen from him and carried it back to the kitchen just when he heard Mr. Cartwright inquire about the special of the day. He nearly dropped the soup when he heard Rye challenge him and the sound of money exchanging hands.

Peeta turned around in horror to see the two of them looking at him expectantly.

"Well come on, get the man a plate," Rye said.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes Peeta set aside the soup on the counter and got one of the breads on a plate for Mr. Cartwright.

"There you are Mr. Cartwright. Enjoy, and may the odds be ever in your favour." Rye said cheerfully.

He turned over the hourglass and Mr. Cartwright crammed the entire loaf into his huge gaping maw of a mouth. For a second, Peeta and Rye were stunned, and gave each other panicked looks. If he actually set them back five thousand Gil they would be actually be flayed alive by their mother.

But luck shined on them that day, because Mr. Cartwright's face started turning a queer green colour from the bottom up and he began retching, a soggy black mess landing back on the plate.

"You win boys, it looks like ol' John Cartwright can't beat this challenge. How'd you make that bread anyway? It was as if it set my taste buds to instinctively vomit."

"Trade secret," Rye said smugly and elbowed Peeta.

After Mr. Cartwright bought three doughnuts to wash out the taste and left, Rye switched the sign from open to closed.

They two boys' shoulders sagged in relief at their first day on their own was over.

"Man, I gotta admit, for a couple of seconds there, I thought we were finished," Rye admitted. "Now let's dump the rest of the burnt bread before mom and dad find out."

"Find out what?"

There was almost a screeching pause as Peeta and Rye turned around slowly to be greeted with their mother and father, pale and haggard in bathrobes standing at the foot of the stairway.

"Nothing," Rye said nonchalantly as he wiped the chalkboard before they could see. "Oh Mr. Cartwright dropped by, he brought over some soup for you guys."

Peeta hastily tipped the rest of the ruined bread in the trash before his parents could see and ladled them each a bowl of soup.

"I'll have to thank John later," their father said in a nasally voice, sounding still very ill.

And it seemed that they had gotten away with it too, the month passed, their parents got better, and there was enough money to purchase more flour and life went on as it usually did. Until Greyden and Clifford came back for their weekly order.

"Hello you two!" their father greeted them cheerfully. "Will it be the usual?"

"Yeah. We skipped last week and we're looking forward to eating bread that's actually edible."

"Oh really? What happened last week?" Rye began to frantically motion behind his father's back and shake his head.

"That damned Bread from Hell special. It was so god awful we didn't feel like eating bread for a week after that. Me and Cliff were vomiting and shitting blood the next day."

"That's awful. But I don't remember condoning an item that would be called Bread from Hell."

"Well it was the worst thing we ever tasted, mark my words. There was a penalty for not being able to eat it, did anyone actually manage to win the prize money for finishing it?"

Their father turned around slowly, his face slack-jawed and as icy cold as the arctic. "I don't know. Boys, do you know anything about this?"

Peeta and Rye froze. "Ummmm."


End file.
